


Dance Through Time

by mortenavida



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (sorry not sorry), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cowboys, Death, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Multi-Era, Pirates, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Stucky Big Bang 2016, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:56:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7831141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortenavida/pseuds/mortenavida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts hundreds of years ago in a time not remembered. It ends with a brainwashed criminal and his stubborn friend aboard a helicarrier in 2014. No matter what life they lead, somehow they’re always pulled together and torn apart. That is, until they're too stubborn to let fate decide their lives. (The AU that follows Steve and Bucky through the years.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So there was originally so much more to this, but real life got in the way. I might include the other parts later, but here are the three for now.
> 
> My artist was smol-tiny-bee and she's made a tracklist for the fic:  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/jaywalkerseven/playlist/6nUiJEwXWvuoP4FooukYU2

Steve had never wanted to feel the pointed tip of a blade pressed against his throat, but after about the fifth time, he figured it would be an ongoing occurrence.  Especially as he had all but inherited the ship  _ Rebirth _ from the late Howard Stark.  Howard's son, Anthony, hadn’t wanted the vessel, and Steve had been Howard's first mate for years, so there hadn’t been a question as to who the next captain would be.  After a small ceremony at which the governor made it official, Steve had boarded the ship with his head high and the crew happy.  They had always liked him more than Captain Stark, and Steve had no doubt that they would have all joined him in mutiny if he were that type of sailor.

He wasn’t, nor would he ever be, someone that could easily toss a man overboard, though.  Howard had stayed captain until he met his end in one of the local pubs – a knife to his throat and a quick drag behind a frightened horse.  It hadn’t been pretty, finding his body torn up in the gutters, and it was something Steve had never wished on anyone.  The only saving grace of the situation was the fact that Howard was most likely so drunk that he didn’t feel a thing – it had never been unusual to find the late Captain above or below deck with his ale.

As first mate, Steve had gotten into plenty of fights with pirates.  He had started as a cabin boy, fetching little things anyone in the crew might need.  Scrawny and weak, nobody had thought he'd survive at sea for longer than a week.  To their surprise, not only did Steve survive, he thrived.  His body grew healthier, and he soon lost his sickly look.  Clint, who spent most of his time in the crow’s nest, wrote it off as Steve's being a late bloomer; Steve privately attributed it to finally being able to eat three solid meals a day.

So what if he lied to Captain Howard when he enlisted to join the crew?  If they had wanted to catch the liars, they could have visited where Steve claimed he lived; they would have found just an old hogwash barn.  It wasn’t far from the truth, but it was not the clean upbringing demanded by the Royal Navy.

(When the time came and Steve finally admitted that he'd lied, Howard had just laughed and told him to fetch him another keg of rum.)

Steve’s first venture as Captain was to be an easy one: deliver some cargo – just a few trunks – to a neighboring harbor, exchange it for some new cargo, and head home.  They had done this plenty of times under Howard’s drunken command – it would be easy.

It should have been easy.

It wasn’t easy.

They delivered the trunks without any problem, but as soon as they were back in open water, a strange ship came on them.  The ship's hull was tainted black, its sails red, and its masthead silver – it was the oddest looking ship Steve had ever seen.

The  _ Rebirth _ had faced and dealt with pirates before, and – despite the ship's odd look –  this would be no exception.  Steve called out a command and his crew immediately took action.  They dropped the sails to try and catch a breeze to increase their pace, the men raced below deck to help row, and the cannons were brought out.  Steve stood behind the wheel, steering them easily toward the nearest shore (thankfully still in sight – he could even partially make out a war fortress on the banks).

“Gaining, Cap!”

Steve spared a quick glance up to Clint in the nest.  His eyes were still as sharp as ever, and Steve trusted him to know exactly how far the pirate ship was.  Gaining was just a warning – they still had time.

“Cap…”

Steve took a chance and glanced behind them.  The pirate ship was closer than he'd like, but none of their weapons seemed to be at the ready.

“Gaining still and… and they’re raising a flag!  White flag, and what looks like a hole in their port!”

That could mean anything – an actual hull break or just an artist’s good design, meant to thwart good samaritans who might otherwise try to escape.  Steve looked back once more before figuring that if the ship was going through this much trouble to raise a while flag (a pair of knickers, actually), then they had to actually be in trouble.

“Wilson,” he called, catching his first mate's attention.  “Tell the men we’re going to see what they want.”

Samuel shook his head and, if he still had his tongue, Steve was sure that the man would be cursing up a storm.  But for now, he just went to the first man and made the sign for “be prepared” and “helping.”  (Steve wasn’t sure where the system of hand signals had come from, but they were useful, so he had never questioned further.)  It didn’t take long for the message to trickle down.

And for the pirate ship to catch up to them.

The fully intact pirate ship.

Steve was ever so grateful that the men never took things at face value – the first wave of pirates that tried to board were slain and dumped into the water for the sharks. Steve could see a man and a woman on the deck of the other ship standing side-by-side, watching the fight with sharp eyes.  Rather than pay them any more mind, Steve unsheathed his blade and jumped in to help defend his ship.

In all his years at sea, Steve had never once seen a pirate actually take control of a vessel.  Yes, he had heard tales from the weaker captains.  Tales of stupidity and flashing what they kept below deck.  Steve was smarter than that, though.  The only markings on his vessel were those required by the Royal Navy; the ship otherwise looked bare.

Something told him that these pirates weren’t just after what treasure they might have.

That became especially clear when Steve found himself on his knees with a blade to his throat.

His men stopped fighting, backing up and holding their hands high in the air.  It wasn’t what Steve wanted them to do, and it was the first time he actually cursed their loyalty.  His life was not worth anything if they did not survive; he thought they understood that.

Now it was just him and the blade.  Steve looked up to the man’s arm and then to his face.  He was remarkably clean-shaven for a pirate, though the rest of his hair was unkempt.  It looked a greasy brown mess from the tips to the strands that disappeared into his bandana.  But his eyes, blue as the sea and as mischievous as the mermaids within it, made it hard for Steve to look away.  He licked his lips, forcing himself to look back down to the blade.

“Do you yield?” the man asked.  (And oh, his voice was velvet as it dragged across Steve's skin.  Steve had to hold back a shiver.)  “I could take your ship by force, but I would rather not expend the effort.  So I ask again… Do you yield?”

Steve looked back at the man’s eyes and straightened himself.  If he were to die, it would not be because he was cowering on the deck of his own ship.  “Is my life worth the life of my crew?”

The pirate arched an eyebrow and took his time considering the remaining men in Steve's employ.  He motioned his head toward one of his own men and, before Steve could protest, the scruffier pirate had taken Jonathan (a good man, even if he were a drunk just as Howard had been) and slit his throat.  Steve shut his eyes, wincing as Jonathan's corpse landed on the deck in a crumpled heap.

“Now,” the pirate said, pressing the blade against Steve’s throat, “your life is worth the lives of your remaining crew.”

Steve had prepared himself for pain, for blood to stream down his throat, but there was nothing.  The sharp point of the blade pulled away and then arms were pulling him into a standing position.  He opened his eyes, looking around to see two burly men had tugged him up.  Steve’s crew watched on, none of them moving, as the pirates dragged Steve onto their ship.

Floating in the water, visible just as they passed from one deck to the next, Steve recognized the body of Samuel.  He turned his head to the pirate captain and struggled.

“Let me give them a captain,” he all but begged, turning in his captor’s arms.  “They should have someone to lead them home, someone who knows the waters.”

The pirate captain simply shook his head, and then someone else forced a gag into Steve’s mouth.  He struggled further until a smaller blade pressed against his throat from behind.  He could fight this, and he could probably win, but how many more of his men would die if he tried?

“The Royal Navy needs captains just to get home now?” the pirate asked.  “My, how… disappointing.”  He pointed to the closest sailor, a sketchy man Steve had known from before named Obadiah.  “I’m sure you already have a plan to return.  Go on, scuttle home to your wives.”

“You’ll burn us as soon as he’s below deck,” Obadiah accused, giving Steve a filthy glare.  Steve accepted it; this was no one’s fault but his own.

The pirate captain stepped into Obadiah’s space, almost chest to chest, and shook his head.  “His life for yours," he said. "The bargain has already been struck.”

Without another word, he stepped into the bowels pirate ship.  Steve struggled as he was pulled below deck and into the darkness. The men holding him shoved him through a doorway and shut the door behind him.  Steve immediately pulled the gag out of his mouth and stepped back against the wall – he wasn’t stupid enough to see if the door was unlocked.  If it was unlocked, there would be men standing outside, ready to knock him unconscious, and he would rather be sealed in than helpless.

It wasn’t long before the ship moved and Steve scrambled to the small window he had been given, peering out to see the pirate ship sail away from the  _ Rebirth _ .  No smoke came from the deck, but that didn’t mean explosives hadn’t been rigged.  Still, he watched it until it was just a speck on the horizon – no smoke to be seen.  

Briefly, he wondered if perhaps the crew was simply dead and that was why the pirates didn’t bother burning it.

He wondered if he would ever find out what happened to them.  (Probably not.)

The door opened, a slight creak from the wood the only thing giving it away.  Steve turned to see a woman who seemed to have a color palate that just consisted of red.  From the blood red of her hair to the vibrant red of her dress, it was all Steve could see; it matched their sails.

“You’re invited to dinner,” she said before tossing him a worn coat.  “You’re to wear that and leave your navy clothes behind.”

Steve turned the coat over in his hands.  “And if I refuse to do either?”

“I’ll persuade you.”

(Her name, Steve found out much later, was Natalia, and she had been on the ship for longer than anyone save for the captain.  As far as the crew knew, they were together; she never seemed to have a bunk outside the captain’s quarters.)

Removing his Navy jacket was harder than Steve imagined, but a feeling of liberation ran through him as he pulled on the well-fitting leather.  It wasn’t, it couldn’t have been, made for him, but it felt like it.  He ran his hand down the worn fabric and imagined that he could almost feel the history behind it.  It was a silly thought, since nobody could do that, but he liked to think that, between that feeling and the lack of blood stains, someone hadn’t died when the pirates obtained the jacket.

Natalia raised an eyebrow at him once he finished feeling himself up, and Steve simply offered her a smile.  “Shall we?” he asked, seeing no need to be rude to a lady.

She gave him no answer but to turn and start walking.  Steve tugged on his new jacket once before following after.  The hallway was empty of people, leaving just the two of them to walk what seemed like the length of the ship.  Steve had never seen something like this inside of a vessel before, but it wasn’t unheard of.  They passed a few stairs that led down, but only one that came to the deck of the ship.  She passed that and, instead, stopped right outside the last door.

“The Captain and your meal are already inside.  Arms up, sailor.”

Steve hesitated before lifting his arms.  “Shouldn’t you have checked me for weapons earlier?”

“I trust in my own skills,” she said, sliding her hand slowly over Steve’s privates.  Natalia squeezed him once before continuing with her search.

An invasive search like this had been done on him once, but he had been eleven at the time and not known what the man who had done it could have been implying.  This time, however, he knew that Natalia was attempting to drag a reaction out of his cock.  Despite his general lack of interest toward any particular gender, he was almost ashamed to know that it was working.

Natalia pulled the dagger from his boot and the pistol from the back of his pants.  “Only these?  Are you so arrogant of a captain that you rely on your crew to save you?”

“I don’t really like fighting,” Steve told her honestly, “and my sword is still on the deck of my ship.”

“Abandoned like your crew.”

Steve clenched his fists together before leveling Natalia with a smile.  “I believe there was talk of dinner?”

She pushed the dagger into her hair and the pistol disappeared among the many folds of her dress.  She knocked twice on the door before she turned and made her way back down the hall, disappearing down another set of stairs.

When Steve turned back toward the door, it was open and his captor stood there, very obviously looking him over.  Steve straightened his back and raised his chin defiantly – more so, even, when the man’s eyes focused on his partially aroused crotch.  Now he knew why Natalia had done it, and he was not at all amused.

“Captain,” Steve said, drawing the man’s eyes up to meet his.  The man’s hair was more disheveled than it had been before, and his blue eyes gleamed with a type of mischief that Steve had only seen before on his brother.

He had the silly urge to step into the man’s space and touch him.  To drag his hand through the tangled hair and press him against a wall.  To devour him and pull the most ragged noises from his throat.  He squashed them. Those reactions were just because Natalia had gotten his libido started, that was all.

The captain pushed the door open for Steve before disappearing inside.  Steve rolled his shoulders to try and ease the tension there before he followed after him.

The room was filled with more books than Steve had seen outside of a library.  He couldn’t help but stare in shock at the stacks, some rising almost to the ceiling.  He didn't see any dust on them, either, and that sparked his interest.

“If you don’t close your mouth, I’m going to stick something in it.”

Steve turned sharply to the man, shutting his mouth in embarrassment.

The captain nodded his approval.  “That’s better.  My name is Captain Barnes, but my crew is a bunch of no-good horse-shitters who like to call me Captain James.”  He handed a glass of wine to Steve.  “They think it makes me sound more regal.  What do you think?”

“I think you should tell me why you took only me.”  Steve swirled the wine in the glas but didn’t move to drink it.

“Who wouldn’t?”  James circled around Steve, trailing a hand lightly across Steve’s waist and arms.  “I took the ship wanting treasure, and I do believe I’ve found it.”

“People aren’t property.”

“Aren’t they?”  James stopped in front of Steve, all but invading his space.  “We ship people across the seas for slavery, or for men to take as wives.  How are we not property?”

“I am—“

“Oh, you will be.”  James tilted his head back to drink his wine.  When he was finished with his glass, he took Steve’s and did the same.  “More wine?”

Steve had never felt a stirring in his belly for someone before.  Granted, nobody had even bothered getting into his space quite like this.  He presented himself as a polite sailor, so people treated him as such.  The women he did sleep with flirted and teased him into bringing them to his bunk.  The few men he had been able to woo usually waited for him to make the move – nobody had ever shown quite this much interest.

Steve’s body was definitely interested and he was surprised to find that he did not even feel shame for it.  This was going to be a problem.

“I don’t like wine,” he insisted, stepping away from James to head toward the only clear table in the room.

Covered dishes scattered across its top and Steve could only assume that they were keeping the food warm.  He eyed the two chairs – one at the head and another on the side – before deciding that yes, he was going to be difficult.  Without a word, he settled himself at the head of the table and relaxed into the comfortable, ornate chair as if it belonged to him.  Once he was completely settled, he looked up to James and motioned toward the dishes.

“Are we eating, or are you just going to keep standing there?” he asked.  It took all the self-control he had not to grin at the look at James’ face.

Desire, want, surprise – it was all there, out in the open.  Steve was playing a dangerous game and he knew it, but he also didn’t want to be the only one feeling out of his element.  Two could play the game, and there was no rule stating that Steve had to be the one forfeit.

“I do believe you have my seat,” James finally said as he approached.  “That is not your chair.”

“Specifications weren’t met before you invited me here, so I do believe it is my chair now.”

James laughed and uncovered the closest dish.  “Then I suppose I’ll have to make do with what’s been left for me.”

The food had an aroma that reminded Steve instantly of home.  His mother had died when he was young, but he could still smell her food, and this?  This had to be the closest thing he had gotten to it since she passed.

“Lamb was very abundant on the island we visited before attacking your ship,” James explained.  He picked up the entire plate and then gracefully settled himself directly onto Steve’s lap.  “If you’ve never tried it, you’re in for a treat.”

Steve’s hands should not have moved to rest on James’ hips, but they did so of their own accord.  He stared at the captain for a long moment before opening his mouth to the offered forkful of meat.  If James wanted to kill him, then at least he would have good food in his belly.  He doubted the man did, though – not with the way he was constantly looking at him.

“Good?” James asked before eating a bit himself.

Steve could just nod, his grip tightening.  James just grinned and continued to feed them both.  Neither man acknowledged their growing erections, not even when James shifted so they brushed against one another.  Steve just closed his eyes and opened his mouth for another bite (this time of carrots), trying his best not to acknowledge the growing want within him.

The fork was soon replaced with fingers, and Steve took great joy in pulling out a moan from the captain as he pulled those fingers into his mouth.  James attempted to rock against him, but Steve squeezed onto his hips, keeping him still.

He shouldn’t be doing this, he knew he shouldn’t, but there was something.  There was a pull he couldn’t begin to understand.  Steve wanted this and he couldn’t begin to explain why.

The fingers were replaced with a hot mouth and a seeking tongue.  Steve allowed it until he couldn’t breathe.  He broke away from James with a bit of force, almost pushing the man off his lap.  James blinked at him, surprised, but that only lasted a moment before he grinned and rubbed his hand over the bulge in his pants.

“This is all from you, Captain Rogers,” James told him.  “I’ve wanted you since I got you on your knees.”

Steve debated just giving in, letting James have him, but his morals decided at that moment to rise up.  He pushed James the rest of the way off his lap and stood, arms unmoving by his side.

“Thank you for the meal,” he said, “but I am nobody’s whore.”  Steve peeled off the jacket and left it hanging on the back of the chair.

“I never said you were.”

Steve turned to look back at James, eyes settling on the still stroking hand.  “Your actions need no words.  If this is all you have need of me, then I’ll take my leave now.”

“What, are you going to walk right off the ship?”

“If I must.”

James rolled his eyes.  “Natalia will lead you back to your room.”

“I can find my way.”  Steve opened the door and found himself come face-to-face with Natalia.  A blush stole across his cheeks as he realized that she had probably heard everything, though he wasn't sure how long she had been standing outside the door.  “My lady.”

She quirked her lips, nodded to James, and then led Steve silently back to his room.  “I wouldn’t piss him off,” she warned once they were there.  “The captain is a good man as long as you are good to him in return.”

“I don’t understand what he wants from me.”

Natalia opened his door and leaned in the doorway.  “He is interested in what you can become.”

Steve edged past her into the room.  “I am who I am already.”

“He seems to think differently, as do I.”  Natalia pushed off the doorframe and shut the door, ending their brief conversation before it could continue.

Steve turned to his bed to find a pair of clothes with a note attached telling him to change.  Feeling stubborn, Steve tossed the new clothes toward the door and settled into the bed.  He was far from tired, but he needed to get sleep where he could.  There was no telling what Captain Barnes had in store for him, or when he would be taken out and questioned for information.

Interest could only mean that they knew exactly who he was and who he knew.  Why they would think he knew the late Howard Stark's secrets he understood, but they were going to be disappointed.  Howard hadn't told him anything.  Steve had nothing to give.

James raided two more ships within the week, though they mostly looked like happenstance than actual targets.  Both went mostly the same way – they pulled alongside the ship after raising a surrender symbol, they boarded, they fought, and then they took something.  The first ship lost its treasure, the second ship lost one of its men to a member of James’ crew.   Steve couldn’t figure out the system, but he knew that if they took a person, they left behind everything else.

Nearly a week after he was first taken, Natalia again came to the door to tell him that he was requested for dinner.  He pushed past her and walked down the hall himself.  He had been fed well enough through the week, but it was always someone else coming to leave the trays of food.  He sometimes wondered if Natalia was perhaps the captain's unwilling servant for the captain, but no, she looked more at ease here than some of the men did.

A willing body in his bed, then?  It was possible.

James answered at the first knock.  He eyed Steve just as he had the first time, but Steve was prepared this time.  Natalia’s hands hadn’t been on his cock, for one.  He pushed into the room and stood in the center, shoulders squared and determined.

“I want to know what you want with me.”

James grinned, shutting the door quietly.  “Of course you do.”

“And if you don’t want anything but a warm body in your bed, pull out the plank now.”  Steve tracked James’ progress around the room with his eyes.  “I won’t do it.”

“No?”

Steve held back the sigh that threatened to escape him.  “I am not anyone’s play thing.”

James poured two glasses of wine.  “I always knew you were both stubborn and a tease.”  He handed a glass to Steve and then clinked them together.  “I’ll make you a deal.”

Steve frowned, not drinking again.  “What kind of deal?”

“You try, for one week, being part of my crew.  If you like it, I’ll tell you what I want with you.  If you truly don’t like it, I will personally drop you back off at your home port.”  James knocked back the entire cup in one go before placing it down on the table.  “What say you to that?”

Steve’s mind was screaming out for him to say no, to not accept this.  It was a challenge, it was someone thinking that they could decide what he would and wouldn’t like.  It was stupid.

It was exhilarating.

Steve knocked back his drink and put his cup beside James’ own.  “You have a deal.”

James laughed and, before Steve could stop him, surged forward for an almost brutal kiss.  It was over just as quickly as it started, but the pirate kept close.  “You need to look the part.”

Steve pushed away, knowing that James was right, but not wanting to admit to it.  He didn’t need to say anything, because soon enough James had searched through his trunks and pulled out a few items of clothing.  The worn jacket from before as well as a looser shirt and shorter pants.  Giving in, Steve simply changed right where he stood.

James’ eyes on his body did not escape him, and Steve smirked to himself.  Let the captain see what he couldn’t have.

Steve felt exposed once the new clothes were on, though.  The pants were shorter, yes, but they tucked into a new pair of boots he was given so nobody would notice.  Once the shirt was tucked in, it didn’t look as baggy, though it was still open around his chest.  The jacket fit just as well as it had before, framing his body in a way that his Navy jacket could never achieve.  Part of him felt rebellious, the other part traitorous.  He frowned, turning to look at a stunned James, who apparently couldn’t stop staring at him.  It was unnerving.

“Do I look like a pirate yet?”

“Anybody can look the part,” James said, stepping closer.  “It’s acting it that’s different.”  He reached up and pulled Steve’s hair out of its ponytail.  “We should cut it.”

“No.”

“No?”

Steve stepped back.  “When I don’t like this, I would rather not have to grow it out again.”

“All right.”  James held the tie out.  “That is, of course, your choice.  Want a tour of the ship?”

With nothing better to do, Steve agreed.  James led him through the main hall and down the last set of stairs, and thus their tour began in the kitchens.  Every room they went into, James found a reason or excuse to touch Steve, driving him to the point where he almost wanted to give in to his carnal desires and take the captain against the nearest surface.  He resisted and, after the second room, started to return the teasing.

He was determined not to be the only one teased into arousal, even if it wasn’t that difficult.  It seemed as if Captain Barnes was always ready to rise to the occasion.

The tour ended on the deck and nobody seemed surprised to see Steve standing next to their captain.  He recognized the person they had last picked up, decked out in his own new clothes and working with a smile near the sails.  Steve frowned at him, branding him a traitor in his mind.  He had been probably forced to be a pirate as well, but did he need to look so happy about it?

“Land, Captain!”

Steve looked up to see a man in the crow’s nest pointing south.  He followed the direction to see what looked like a speck on the horizon.  “We’re landing?”

“Home port,” James told him, pushing him toward the wheel.  “We’ll stop for two days, replenish what we need to.”

“It’s dangerous telling me where your home port is,” Steve told him.

“Is it?”  James pushed Steve to the wheel.  “I don’t think so.”

“Even after I bring the Navy here?”

James pressed himself against Steve’s back, grinding his hips in just the right way Steve liked.  “You won’t.”

Steve sucked in a breath and held on tightly to the wheel, trying his best to ignore the fact that even after he stopped the movement of his hips, the captain had yet to step away from him.  Instead, he leaned closer and licked a trail across Steve’s neck, one hand on his hip.  Natalia took over the directing duties, though she didn’t look at him once during the process.  Instead, James would gently tilt Steve’s hips in the direction he wanted his ship to go, and, damn it all, Steve did what was silently asked of him.

Land came sooner than Steve had anticipated and he blamed it all on the man behind him; it was hard to concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing.  Thankfully when they got closer to shore, James pulled himself away and wandered down to the main deck, hollering something to a few of the whores on shore.

A pirate town to its core, Steve could see nothing but chaos around the port.  Part of him was vibrating with excitement (he had always wanted to see this), but the other part was horrified.  Dirt everywhere, women displaying more skin than they should, men openly groping them in the streets – this wasn’t a place Steve thought he would want to be.

“Stevie.”  He glanced over to James, cursing himself for answering to such a ridiculous name.  “Come on, you’re with me.”

Steve didn’t want to, he wanted to tell the man no, but a deal had been struck.  Squaring his shoulders, he walked down the steps to meet him at the ramp leading off the ship.  James’ smile was still there, mischievous and smug and so full of temptation.  Steve clenched his fists at his sides, looking anywhere but at the captain’s face.

“You can’t walk around here like that,” James chided.  “They’ll peg you as a Navy man for sure.  Come on, there’s a few people I want you to meet.”

“Walk around like what?” Steve asked, following him off the ship.

“All prim and proper.  Relax, nobody here is going to touch you as long as you’re with me.”  James grabbed a hat from a nearby woman and stuck it on his head.  Absolutely ridiculous, it had three giant feathers sticking out of the back in various shades of color.  The hat itself seemed to be dyed red – dirt coated it in various places.  James still wore it proudly, strutting into the port city with Steve trailing behind, almost like a lost puppy.

Steve hated feeling like a lost puppy.

“Where are we going?” he asked, not losing his stride despite what James had told him.  If he wanted to walk with his head held high, he was sure as hell going to do just that.

“A favorite inn of mine.”  James waved to a few more women as they passed before taking another hat.  This one looked cleaner, but it was still a dirty and dusty black.  Without a word, he turned and stuck it atop Steve’s head.  “Perfect.”

“I don’t need a hat.”

Before Steve could even attempt to remove it, James moved into his space, fingers trailing down Steve’s cheek.  “Ah, but you look more like a pirate now.  Yes?”

Steve sighed, letting his hand drop.  “Aye, more like a pirate.”

“That’s the spirit.”  James laughed and brought him to a nondescript door.

Steve could hear the noise from the street, though that was usual even in the calmest of towns.  He adjusted the fit of his coat before giving James a nod, which was all the man needed.  A moment later, Steve was pulled into a brightly lit pub and surrounded by patrons on all sides.  Some were far too drunk to be there, but others were sober and watching the crowd silently.  Glasses flew through the air, women laughed as they fell onto men’s laps, and James ignored all of it.

Steve followed him up the rickety stairs to the third floor.  The only people he could see up here were ragged whores who eyed Steve, but did nothing to draw him near or proposition him.  If Steve were a filthier man, he may have been insulted.  Instead, he gave them a polite nod and continued to follow James to the darkened area of the hall.  James put a finger to his lips before opened in the last door and stepping inside.

Hesitantly, Steve followed him still, only to see a group of people he would never have thought to see in a place like this.

Anthony Stark, son of the late Howard Stark, stared at Steve for a solid minute before he broke out laughing.  His partner-in-crime and personal doctor, Bruce Banner, simply arched an eyebrow,and, next to them, his own crewman, Clint Barton leaned back in his chair.

“Hey, Cap,” Clint said, offering him a wave.  “Thanks, I owe Anthony a few rounds now.”

Steve glanced to James, but the man wasn’t even looking at him.  Instead, he seemed to be intently staring at a map on the wall.  Steve focused on Bruce instead, hoping the scowl on his face was enough to spur the doctor to talk.  Bruce had a temper, but even he knew better than to cross Steve.

Sure enough, Bruce started talking. “There is a perfectly valid explanation for this," he said, "but we had to get you away from Obadiah.”

“Why?”

Bruce nodded, pushing over a cup of ale.  “Sit, this may take a while.”

“Get it out fast.”  Steve sat, but he didn’t drink.

So Bruce told him everything he knew.  About how the governor didn’t trust Howard and wanted his entire crew gone.  But in order to do that, they needed Steve gone.  James had been hired to raid the ship, kill Steve first, and then do whatever else he wanted.  However, James hadn’t been a pirate all his life – he had grown up an orphan on the same land Steve did.  While they never met, everybody knew the story of how Steve rose through the Navy’s ranks.

Partway through his tale, Natalia came into the room and, without a word, settled herself in Clint’s lap.  Nobody acknowledged the move, so Steve decided that he wouldn’t as well.

Anthony rubbed at his chest and picked up the story from there, explaining how James had sent Natalia with the news.  Since she and Clint were… involved, they maintained open communication between the rogue pirates and the Navy ships.  When Steve gave Clint a small glare, Clint just shrugged and slid a hand further up Natalia’s leg.

Nobody had wanted Steve dead, least of all the pirates.  James did not offer the information, but Steve knew why.  Not once before had Steve openly attacked a pirate ship, choosing to instead only defend his own when the time came.  Even while under Howard’s command, he never raised his blade unless he needed to.

Pirates appreciated a sailor who refused to kill them.

Steve looked at all of them before pushing the untouched ale back to Bruce.  “None of that explains all of you,” he insisted.

Anthony shrugged and said, “We don’t like the governor.”  As if it were just that simple.

Steve had more questions, but it was obvious they weren’t interested in answering any of it.  He leaned back in his chair, watching people he thought he knew argue over types of guns and how Bruce could save any person shot by one, no matter where the bullet hit.  Clint and Natalia ignored the rest of them, too caught up in letting their hands fully explore one another.

Beside him, James just drank his ale, silent.  Steve couldn’t take it any longer than this and, without a word, he left the room.

He heard the footsteps following him not long after, but he didn’t care.  He needed time to breathe, time to think, away from the small room with people inside – people that he didn’t quite know anymore.  People that cared enough about him to stage a kidnapping.  It didn’t make sense.

“If you wander too far into the city, people are going to know you’re not a pirate.”

Steve stopped walking and finally looked around, realizing where he ended up stopping.  It was quieter, not as many people roaming the area.  He sighed, pulling his hat off his head so he could drag a hand through his hair, disheveling the ponytail.

“But I am a pirate, at least for now.”

James came to stand beside him, leaning over slightly to catch Steve’s eyes.  “If they had their way, you’d continue to be a pirate.  You look good all dressed up.”

Steve shoved at him, ignoring how James laughed.  “I feel ridiculous…”

“And used?  Yeah, Stark said you’d feel as much.  That’s why he asked me to keep a close watch on you.”

“You?”  Steve turned, eyeing James.  “Out of all the pirates, why you?”

“Because Stark knows about your dirty little secret, Stevie.”  James stepped closer.  “Your need to be controlled, taken advantage of and cared for.  He told me just how the two of you used to get at it when his old man wasn’t watching.”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat and he tried to take a step away, but James just followed.  “We never—“

“Now come on, don’t lie.”  James reached out, his hand sliding down across Steve’s hip.  “I fancy myself someone to control, honestly.”

Steve closed his eyes, forcing his breathing under control.  “You know nothing.”

“I know enough.”  James trailed his fingers over Steve’s growing erection. “But, I’m not one to take what isn’t given.”  He stepped back, giving Steve space that he suddenly didn’t want.  “You come find me when you want to really explore things.”

As Steve watched James walk away, he knew that if all of this was true, he would probably never be able to get another chance like this.  Making a choice, he followed behind the captain, ignoring as he saw the man smirk openly into the night.

Steve followed him all the way to a small looking shack.  As he stepped inside, he realized that no, this wasn’t a shack – this was a home.  Most likely James’ home, judging from the various open bits of treasure and discarded, familiar-looking clothes.  And if this wasn’t James’ home, Steve was going to pretend that it was because the last thing he wanted was for someone to come home and find them there.

“There’s something you guys aren’t telling me,” Steve insisted, taking off his hat to toss it toward the lone table.  “Anthony rubs his chest when he’s leaving something out, and that’s all he could do while telling that story.  Tell me what I’m missing.”

James tossed his own hat to join Steve’s on the table and when he looked up, he focused directly on him.  Steve felt taken apart by the stare, felt the now-familiar stirring in his belly.  He knew he shouldn’t get excited, he should not be drawn to how James flexed his fingers while reaching toward him.

Steve should not be kissing the pirate captain, but he was.  He was kissing the man deeply and pressing him into the nearest wall.  Not sure how they had gotten this close in the first place, Steve pulled back to stare at the red lips and disheveled clothes of the man he had pinned against the wall.  James just grinned at him, sliding his hands up Steve’s chest to take hold of his jacket and pull him in again.

There was no point in resisting, so Steve didn’t.

Steve was no virgin to the pleasures of both men and women, and he knew what he liked, but it was as if James could read his mind.  Steve enjoyed the rush of making the first move, of diving into a situation without a thought, but he liked (at least during sex) for his partner to finish the job.  Never before had he met someone that would do just that.  They enjoyed their preconceived roles as the submissive partner, letting Steve dominate them the entire round.

Not James.  Sure, James let the kissing and groping be run by Steve for some time, but by the time they were both hard and wanting, he had taken control.  Steve planted both hands on the wall and sucked in a breath as James dropped to his knees, Steve's pants falling to the ground with the move.  The warmth of a mouth on his aching cock was enough to make Steve close his eyes and jerks his hips forward.  Before he could get too far, hands moved up to cover his hip, keeping them still.

If anything, Steve grew harder under the pressure of the calloused hands.  Stay, they told him.  Don't move.

Steve let out a groan, arms shaking the more he stood there.  James dragged his tongue up the underside of his cock and Steve jerked slightly.  James pulled away with a small laugh and Steve wasn't even embarrassed to know that a whimper escaped his throat.  He wanted the captain on his knees, mouth open and wrapped around his aching dick.

“Relax,” James said.  “We’ll continue, but I want you on my bed.”

A bed sounded great, so Steve let James push him backward until they were falling onto a rough mattress.  Steve’s hands automatically reached up to grip the headboard as James once again ran his tongue up under Steve near his balls.  He wasn’t going to last long like this, but he didn’t care.

“Beg.”

One word, that was all it took, and Steve opened his mouth automatically to do just that.  'Please' and 'right there, yes' came out with every brush of fingers, every touch from James’ hand.  This wasn’t supposed to happen, Steve hadn’t wanted it to happen, but there was no way he was going to stop it now.

He came as soon as James pushed a finger past the tight ring of muscle.  His vision blacked out slightly and his hips raised, pressing his cock into James’ mouth.  It took a moment for his mind to catch up, and, when it did, he was still breathing hard and fast.

Steve could feel the sweat on his back and felt only partially bad that they had probably ruined James’ bed.  James didn’t seem to care as he crawled up the bed until he could kiss Steve desperately.  Without a thought, Steve wrapped a hand around James’ own erection and jerked him until the captain came all over Steve’s leg.

They were quiet as they came down from the high of sex, or as close to sex as they had been at.  Steve swore he could still feel James’ finger in his ass, though he knew that not to be true.  One of James’ hands was resting just above Steve’s cock, half in the sticky residue Steve expelled.  The other hand was in Steve’s hair at an awkward angle and, when he decided to think about it, Steve knew that he really didn’t care.

He wanted more than the top of James’ finger to be in him, and the thought alone caused his dick to take notice and stir.

James laughed softly, hand moving up Steve’s body and dragging the cum with it.  He paused on a scar, then looked to Steve.  “This was actually unexpected.”

Steve shrugged.  “If I’m supposed to be a pirate for a week, why not get the full experience?”

“That usually involves the whores.”

“I never liked them much.  Yeah, they could give you a good time, but it was… nothing.” Steve frowned, looking to the ceiling.  “Just a job they had to do.”

Was this just a job to James?  Did Steve just find his way into a different kind of whore’s bed?  It was something he needed, but didn’t want, to know.  He sighed, rubbing at his face with his clean hand.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he decided and moved to sit up.

Before he could get far, James pushed him back down harshly.  Steve looked to him, a frown on his face.  He opened his mouth to demand why he was pulled down, but the look on James’ face stopped him.  Something about it looked wrong, but not guilty.  There was something behind the expression that Steve couldn’t read and he hated that.

“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to keep his voice soft.

“I’m not captain material,” James said after a very long moment, tracing patterns across Steve’s scars.  “Natalia knows that, and she isn’t first mate material either.  So we wanted to find ourselves a good captain that I could be first mate to.  That’s where you come in.”

“I thought that—“

“So does Stark and Banner.  Barton might know, but…”  James looked up to Steve, something almost like vulnerability crossing his features.  “I hate running a ship.”

Steve honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing and, before he knew it, he was laughing.  The situation went from surreal to ridiculous – first Stark “saves” him and now James just wants to quite literally serve him.

He could hear Clint’s voice now, full of awe as he would say, “Well damn, Cap.  Everybody wants to be on your team.”

Steve actually hated it.  He didn’t want people fighting over him, forcing him to choose sides.

He just wanted a ship, to sail the seas and protect those that couldn’t protect themselves.  He wanted the water beneath his feet and the salty air in his lungs.  He wanted a good crew that he knew would do anything for him, just as he would do anything for them.

He wouldn’t mind a body over him at night, licking a path up his chest and making him beg for more.  Part of him really wanted that body to be James, but he ignored that.  James had his own agenda, just as everybody else did.

“This can’t happen again,” he decided and sat up, pushing off James’ arms.  “I’m sorry, but I should… I’m going back to the ship.”

“Steve—“

“I can’t.”

Steve jumped into his shoes as he left the shack, almost tripping over a lace that got stuck on something he couldn’t see.  He didn’t bother doing up those laces and just pulled his jacket on over his rumpled shirt.  He knew he should go back to the ship, but seeing the damn thing would do nothing but further remind him that everybody had an agenda.

Though ignorant, he was mostly happy on the _ Rebirth _ .  If some of his crew wanted to eventually betray him, he could take care of that.  Steve was not a weak man – he had strength inside him that many of the men had no idea about.  Just because he was sweet meant nothing.

Making a choice, Steve went further inland, completely ignoring the way back to the docks.  He would wait until James left with his ship and then find a way back home.  He would reclaim his ship and sail out, proving to James that he was going to do whatever he pleased.  That he could take back control and sort through his crew to find moles.  That he could… continue actually being just miserable.

Steve stopped walking and turned back to look at the docks.  Yes, he could try to find a way back to his ship, but then what?  Continue patrolling the controlled waters?  James’ offer had merits – no restrictions on where he could go and the apparent backing of the richest man in the colony.  In fact, if Anthony married the governor’s daughter (as rumors stated), then he was in line to run for the position.  A small word here, a pull there, and they could take control.

Was that such a bad thing?

No, it wasn’t.  Steve found himself back at the docks, climbing the ramp to James’ ship (he didn’t even know the name yet).  A few of the men nodded in his direction, but Steve ignored them.  He had one place he found that he wanted to be.  Down where the rooms were, he quickly found the captain’s quarters and let himself in.

Except for the stacks of books, Steve was surprised to notice that the room was otherwise bare.  No personal item littered the floors or shelves – the room felt more like a library than a captain’s suite.  Steve ran his hand across a dust-free shelf and smiled softly.  If he were to take this room, he wouldn’t even change how it looked.  Maybe James would stay in here with him, maybe he wouldn’t – Steve wasn’t sure, but he wanted to find out.

His body still tingled from the earlier foreplay.  A shiver ran down his spine as the memory of James’ tongue ran over the growing erection in his pants.  Steve knew he was in trouble – he wanted the pirate captain, and he was willing to betray his own people to get him.

Steve just hoped that James hadn’t just wanted him once.  Or had only wanted him just to convince Steve to be captain.  Neither option was something he really cared to think about and, well, it just meant he would eventually find his way back to the  _ Rebirth _ .

He had cracked open a book full of fairy tales when the door opened and James stepped inside.  The man hesitated as his eyes rested on Steve and, for a moment, Steve swore he saw something like relief flash across the man’s face.

“My mother used to read me these,” Steve told him, turning a page.  “I didn’t realize printed copies were available.”

“I have my sources.”  James shut the door quietly behind him.  His eyes hadn’t left Steve since he entered the room, and Steve really couldn’t find a reason to care.  “I thought you would leave.”

“Tempting.  I guess it depends on what you want with me.”

James frowned and paused behind a chair.  He rested his hands across the carved top, fingers curling so his nails bit into the wood.  “We already had this conversation.”

“No we didn’t.  Captain Barnes asked Captain Rogers if he wanted to become a pirate.”  Steve closed the book.  “I want to know what James wants with Steve.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Apparently not enough.”  Steve put the book back on the shelf.  “What do you want with me, James?  Just a captain?  Entertainment?”

“Just you.”  James moved toward Steve.  “I saw you before, standing up to people three times your size.  I told my ma then that I wanted you and she told me only whore boys said things like that.”

“And me being captain?”

“A very, very nice bonus.”  James finally reached Steve and pulled them close to another.  “I just want you.”

Steve didn’t think he really needed to ask this question, but he had to.  “Want me how?”

James snorted at him before moving in for the dirtiest kiss Steve could remember receiving.  It was instantly tongue and a tight grip in his hair, breaking the tie that kept it neat.  Steve didn’t hesitate in returning the kiss with the same amount of enthusiasm.  His fingers tore at James’ jacket and shirt; buttons soon popped off and disappeared somewhere around them.

Steve really didn’t care because it didn’t take long for James to pin him to a wall and lick a trail up his neck.  He let out a groan, hips pressing into James’ own as much as he could, and it wasn’t until the captain’s hand pressed his hips down against the wall that Steve started paying attention.

“Let’s play a game,” James murmured into his ear.  “Let’s see how well you behave.”

All the blood rushed south and Steve was not ashamed to know that he let out a whimper.  One press of James’ hand into his pants and Steve blissfully zoned out, almost immediately responding to every command.

'Suck here' and 'bite here, good boy,' he loved all of it.  Steve drank it in as James directed him where to go, what to do.  And this time, even though he still lost control the second a finger was in his body, James didn’t stop.  He simply told Steve how good he was and continued pressing inside of him.

By the time James was pressing the top of his cock past Steve’s hole, Steve was aching and hard again.  His fingers tried to find purchase on the floor (how they had gotten there, Steve couldn’t remember).  He scrambled for a bit before giving up and holding onto whatever part of James he could reach.  The burning soon gave way to pleasure as James moved, achingly slow.

Steve begged before James even needed to ask him to.  James kept his pace slow, only telling Steve how beautiful he looked and how good he was.  The praise had Steve tightening his legs around the other man, trying to get him to move faster, anything.

James simply put a hand on Steve’s knee and pushed his legs back a bit, pressing in deeper.

“I want you to come without me touching you,” James told him a little strained.  “I want you to just feel this-“ a thrust of his hips and Steve couldn’t help the strangled moan that escaped “-and that’s all.  Feel it, Stevie?”

Steve probably said yes, but it came out jumbled and breathy.

James laughed again.  “Oh, you want me to go faster?”  He leaned in, breath harsh against Steve’s ear as he told him a single word. “No.”

Steve wouldn’t be able to explain this, but that somehow set him off and he arched into James, his orgasm hitting harder than he could recall it ever happening.  Above him, James swore and repositioned himself before snapping his hips into Steve faster now.  It hurt a little, but Steve’s mind was too wired to acknowledge the slight ache as James worked to get himself off.  He let out a soft hiss as James thrust one last time before shuddering in release.

When Steve became fully aware of what was going on, he was on the floor with James’ arms wrapped around his body, tracing patterns across the skin.  Light kisses peppered his hair and Steve couldn’t help but grin as he relaxed into the hold.

“My captain,” James told him, voice soft against his ear.  “The  _ Winter _ is yours.”

Steve just laughed and turned to pull James into another kiss.

\---

The yells started just as James was helping (hindering) Steve dress in his new attire.  They had just managed to button the last thing, both distracted by the almost-desperate kiss James started, but the kissing (and more) could come later.

James grabbed his sword, tossing one to Steve as well.  “I hate it when people think they can just attack my ship!”

“Don’t you mean my ship?”  Steve wasn’t surprised James didn’t respond to his quip as they ran to the steps.  “Know who it might be?”

“None at all.  This is supposed to be a safe port.”

The deck was just starting to erupt into chaos when they arrived, but Steve barely had a chance to see what was really happening before he had to roll away from a sword.  When he came out of his roll, and saw just who had come to attack, he narrowed his eyes.  This was both expected and unexpected, but he had to deal with it as it was.

“Obadiah, how nice.”

“It’s captain,” the man said, wiping the blood off his blade on the clothes of a man dead near his feet.  “Since you left, I’ve taken over and given the fleet something better to do.  Something more than simply sailing the waters in distant boredom.”

“They all felt that way, did they?”

Obadiah didn’t answer.  Instead, he snarled and jumped toward Steve, blade out.

\---

Legend tells of a fierce battle between the Navy and a bloodthirsty band of pirates.  This legend says that pirates on the ship  _ Winter  _ kidnapped the most beloved captain on the seas, that they killed him without mercy.  It tells of the brave cabin boy who stepped up to lead  _ Rebirth _ against the pirates and killed every last one of them.

It does not tell how Obadiah had two men hold Steve down as a blade slowly pierced through his skin, James screaming from his position tied to the mast.  It doesn’t tell of how the crew of the _ Rebirth _ locked pirates away in the belly before burning the decks.  It doesn’t tell about how James watched Steve die just before the flames took them both.

Because legends lie.

Another.


	2. Chapter 2

The hiss of the locomotive was shrill as it echoed in Steve’s ears, but he welcomed it – at least the train had arrived on time and he wouldn’t have to wait out on the station platform in the ridiculous heat for much longer.  Soon enough, he would be on his way west, where there would be cool breezes and the prospect of a new start. A better life.  Not that things were too terribly bad currently, but there was only so much he could take of the townfolks' teasing about his lack of build – or wife.

Steve was not a burly man, and he couldn't cut down a winter pine on his own. In fact, his skinny arms could barely lift the ax and he constantly had to rely on his brother Clint’s strength to get the job done. Frustrated with his own inability to help the family stay warm in the winter, he'd made the decision to move somewhere warmer, where he wouldn't have to worry about the snow.  A few months after he told the family about his decision, Clint’s friend Anthony returned from out West with a job and a home already set up for Steve.

Anthony’s father had struck gold somewhere, then died in the very same mines. The old man had horded everything he found, leaving all of it to his only son. Anthony was a shark when it came to cards, so it didn’t take long for the money to double and soon he wasn’t sure what to do with it all.  Steve knew better than to refuse Anthony's offer to set him up in the new frontier, but he at least made sure Anthony didn’t try to further supply him with food or clothes.

Besides, he was sure he would figure out a way to get some at his new home. Probably already some form of penny at the local bank, too. If that were the case, he would simply send a telegram saying thanks and make sure this current manhandling was the last time Anthony had his way.

First, though, he had to make it through the train ride. Trains weren’t exactly his favorite means of transportation, but they were faster than a horse and had less chance of killing him during the trip. Holding back the urge to cough at the engine smoke, he passed his bag along to one of the workers and let them load it aboard (another gift from Anthony – “First class treatment, and don’t you ever accept anything less!”). With one last wave to Clint and Anthony, who were watching him from behind the station bars, he shouldered his satchel and climbed aboard.

Steve settled himself into one of the private cabins, not completely ready to be ill – the movement of the train made that almost inevitable – in full view of others.  It had always been an embarrassing part of travel that he mostly had a handle on, but he did not want to chance anything. Some of the folks aboard had the great potential to be his neighbors and that was the last first impression he wanted to give off. Especially since he was one of the few male school teachers around – nobody wanted a sick man teaching their kids.  In here, away from the crowds, he would at least be able to lay down and let the nausea pass.

The door opened and the conductor stood there, hand out. “Ticket please,” he said, beckoning toward Steve with a finger. “Don’t got all day, sir. Ticket.”

“Of course, yes.” Steve dug into his satchel a moment before bringing out the ticket.

The man hummed to himself as he punched the top. “You’re in for a long ride, sir.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you.”

“Two stops on the way. Train leaves with or without you at both.” He handed the ticket back.  “Consider it your only warning.”

Steve would get another warning at the first stop they came to, but he just smiled at that one and nodded his acknowledgement of it again when it came.  He had just stuffed the ticket back into his satchel and pulled out a book when the compartment door opened again and a scruffy man in spurred boots stepped inside.  They stared at another for a moment before the man sat down, hands up.

“Hold on, there. I’ve got some men here after me. I doubt they’d think to look up here.”

Steve eased back into his seat slowly. “What are they after you for?”

“They think I killed their horse, I think.” He glanced out of the compartment window, hat tilting just a tad bit away from his face as he did so. “Not sure.”

“Just don’t cause any trouble and you can stay. For now.” Steve opened his book. “Do you even have a ticket?”

“Hm? Yeah, got me one of those.”

Steve doubted it, but the stranger seemed happy to just settle against the window and watch the scenery as they sped by.  Steve attempted to focus on his book, but … well, he hadn’t always been the best of men. Temptations always got the better of him, and if the man in front of him were any indication, this move was going to be a great lesson in self-control. He heard rumors of men out here dressing in their long coats, pants tight to make it easier to ride. The boots that seemed to cradle the man’s calves did something to Steve’s stomach that he would rather not think about.

The man’s shirt was torn just slightly above his chest, giving Steve a good view of the muscle there.  The moustache just above his upper lip – not too big to be unappealing, but just big enough to send a message that he was a serious man – somehow completed the picture.  Steve wanted to straddle the man like a horse, push that hat off, and run his fingers through the man’s scraggly hair. It was probably unwashed and tangled, but that was all right.

It wasn’t as if Steve was going to get the chance to actually touch the man, anyway. Living in the ways of sin would get him nowhere. He held back a sigh and attempted to focus on the book in his hands.

“What book is that one?”

Steve jerked his head up to find the stranger trying to get a peek at the cover and he flushed. Trying to not notice the man had made him actually miss what the stranger was doing.  “It’s the new one by Robert Louis Stevenson. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

“I haven’t. What is it?”

Steve held up the book. “ _ The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde _ . I haven’t gotten far in it yet, but I’m told it’s good.”

The stranger leaned back again. “Nope, never heard of it. What’s it about?”

Normally, people asking such questions would just annoy Steve – especially if he hadn’t finished the book yet. But for some reason, this stranger just felt different. “A scientist who has two personalities. The underlying quest of good versus evil.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”  The stranger shifted over in the seat so that he was right across from Steve. “Name’s Buck.”

“I’m Steve.”  He offered the stranger – Buck – a smile. “How far west are you heading?”

“Not far, ‘m afraid. Next stop is mine.”  Buck pointed to Steve’s bag. “What are you plannin’ on doing out there with yourself?”

“I'm a teacher.” Steve saved his place in the book and put it to the side. “I’m going to teach kids what I know.”

“Sounds like yer a smart man.”

He let out a small laugh. “Yes, I try to be. Most of my friends are smarter, but I can hold my own.”

“Don’t see a lot of men go into a life of that.  You must like kids a lot.”

Steve looked down at his hands; the lack of wear on his palms would possibly forever annoy him.  “I do, but... It’s not like I can do a lot of the labor that other positions require. I’ve tried before and my friends would humor my attempts, but I’m best left to work inside.”

“Why not something like a doc, then?”

“I suppose I could,” Steve told him, laughing a little. “I sure do get sick enough to know my way around a doctor’s bag, but that’s the other issue. You wouldn’t want your doc to always be sick as well.”

Buck leaned closer, their knees almost touching. “If my doc were you, I don’t think I’d mind all that much.”  He reached out, sliding his knuckles down Steve’s face. “I do like me a pretty face.”

Steve felt as though he couldn’t breathe. This stranger, this man, was bold.  Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off of him as Buck continued to gently, softly let his fingers trail down to Steve’s neck. This was the most bizarre situation he had ever been in, but Steve wanted. He wanted Buck, and it looked as though those feelings were returned.

Steve never imagined that he would ever do something quite this stupid on a train – or anywhere else, for that matter – and it wasn’t like he’d ever see Buck after this, but... “You like the delicate, pretty faces?” he asked.

Buck’s smile spread across his entire face and the next thing Steve knew, he was pushed back against the bench back, Buck on his knees in front of him.  The move was unexpected - Steve was used to being the one on his knees during any of his experiences with men.  Confused, but still very much interested, Steve put both hands on the bench beside him and let Buck do as he pleased.

Buck pushed Steve’s suit jacket aside and then pulled the shirt tails out of his pants. He gave Steve a grin before sliding his hand over the bulge in his pants - Steve had to suck in a breath at the slight friction that caused. His body was definitely awake and ready for this despite only knowing Buck for a few minutes.

“Are you going to just pet it?” he asked, not knowing where his sass came from. “I promise it doesn’t bite.”

Buck’s smile grew and he made quick work on Steve’s belt and pants. Steve didn’t wait for him to say anything - he lifted his hips to let Buck pull the material to his ankles. Buck pulled Steve’s hips forward easily so that Steve was on the edge of the seat. The position would be uncomfortable and be hard on his back soon enough, but those thought disappeared as Buck surge forward and immediately took Steve into his mouth.

Steve’s eyes widened and he reached out a hand to push Buck’s hat completely off so that he could grip Buck's hair.  He knew how to suck a man’s dick - that was usually his job when sleeping with other men - but never before had it been done to him.  Steve didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to arch into Buck’s mouth and pull away from the sensations at the same time. Buck’s tongue occasionally slid up along the underside of Steve as he pulled off before the warm heat engulfed him again. The hand not in Buck’s hair was stuffed into Steve’s mouth as he desperately attempted not to make a noise. He wasn’t sure how thick the walls of the private rooms were, but he didn’t want to test them.

Buck ran a dry hand under Steve’s balls and Steve jerked, unable to help the small whine that came from him.  Buck pulled off Steve and stuck his fingers into his own mouth for a moment. Steve was about to mention that there was no requirement of that, but before he could get the words out Buck’s mouth returned to taking him and the now wet fingers went back to their explorations.

Steve gripped tighter to Buck’s hair as one finger teased at his entrance but, thankfully, didn’t penetrate just yet. Steve wanted it, he knew he did, but he also knew that if Buck wanted to do this, they would need a lot more than just spit.  Not that he would be able to last through anything further than Buck’s mouth on his dick - already he could feel a pull in his gut.  A whimper escaped him and he arched as much as he couldn’t against the seat. Buck hummed a bit in his throat and, with just a slight hint a finger pressing against his entrance, Steve let go and came in Buck’s mouth.

Instead of pulling away, Buck stayed where he was, taking everything Steve gave him. He pulled off Steve’s sensitive cock, licking his lips to get a few drops that escaped his mouth and all Steve could do was stare at him. Buck just smirked and leaned up, pressing a kiss to Steve’s mouth.  Steve’s eyes fluttered closed and he rested a hand on Buck’s scruffy cheek, letting the kiss deepen just enough that he could taste himself on Buck’s tongue.

“Yes,” Buck said as he broke the kiss, “I like pretty, delicate things.”

“I can tell.” Steve moved his hand to grip Buck’s jacket. “Let me...”

“It’s okay.” Buck kissed Steve again before moving to get Steve dressed.  “Not enough time, though I appreciate the thought.”

“Not... Buck, we have a while before your stop.”  Steve stood up with Buck and tucked his shirt in. Buck swatted his hands away and finished dressing him. Steve couldn’t stop staring at the strain in Buck’s own pants. “I could...”

“Steve, it’s okay.” Buck gently pushed Steve back down to side. “I quite enjoy my dick being this hard during a robbery.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “During.. Buck?”

Buck winked at Steve and, after one more kiss, pulled a bandana out of his pocket to tie around his face. After that he took out two guns and rapped on the door. “You just keep your pretty self here, Steve. I’ve already taken what I wanted from this room, after all.”

The door opened and another man, mask over his face, stood there. “Buck, we gotta start now.”

“Coming, Sam. This room is done.”

The other man, Sam, rolled his eyes and went on to the next door.  Buck waved one of his guns at Steve and left the room.  Steve sat on the bench, completely frozen as he heard a knock on the door next to his, and then the next one after that.

He wasn’t sure how many doors Buck and his friend went through before his slid open again. Steve jerked his head up, something in his belly stirring still at the man, the criminal, in the door frame.  Despite what was going on, he still felt something in him that just wanted the man.  It was ridiculous – he shouldn’t even be thinking thoughts that were rolling through his head.  It was a fast and dirty sucking of his cock, the man used him for his own gain, and Steve couldn’t forgive that.

But then Buck reached a calloused hand out to him. Steve didn’t even hesitate – he simply took the hand in his own. Buck squeezed it, a smile in his eyes over the bandana on his face.

“My bag?” Steve asked as Buck pulled him out the door.

“Isn’t a kidnapping if I let you take your stuff, Stevie.”  Buck tugged him down the hall. “I can get you more later.”

“I’m not completely sure I understand what’s going on,” Steve admitted. “I’m going to be—“

“A teacher.”  Buck stopped them outside of the exit door and pulled the bandana down so Steve could see his entire face. “I got a proposition for you, teach.”

“What kind?”

The train jerked and slowed, pushing Steve into Buck’s chest so Steve could practically feel the vibrations as Buck spoke, the erection still obvious in his pants by Steve’s hips.  “There’s a group of us I want you to meet and I think you can do the little ones some good. We don’t have the nice things these towns give us. Sheriff ran us out years ago – won’t even let the kids in to learn. And before you ask, it’s because his daughter ran off with one of our boys. Not that we know where the bastard is, but there you go.”

Steve looked through the window as a few horses, men on half of them, rode up. “Is that it?”

Buck opened the door, then pressed Steve against the wall so Sam could get past them – Steve hadn’t even seen the man show up, not that he was paying any attention now. It was a little frightening, but he fit like this.  He licked his lips, looking up at Buck’s smile.

“I wouldn’t mind you for other reasons,” Buck told him, voice low. “But that one’s up to you.”  He leaned closer. “And if you don’t like it, I promise to personally take you to where you were supposed to go. I may rob trains for gold and pretty, delicate things like you, but I am a man of my word.”

For some reason that Steve would never know or understand, he actually did trust Buck. He squeezed tighter to the hand in his own and nodded once. “I’ll try it.”

“Then hang on.” Buck squeezed his hand again, then let go so he could jump out onto an empty horse.

Steve wasn’t really sure what to do, even after Buck turned to him and beckoned him out.  This wasn’t the smartest thing – surely he would fall and then get trampled. Anthony would dig him up from the ground, raise him from the dead, and yell at him for being stupid. Then Anthony would probably go hunt down Buck and kill him and – Steve frowned at himself.  When was the last time he had taken a risk? Any risk?  No matter what it was?

He sucked in a deep breath, and he jumped.

Buck’s arms came around him as the horse was pulled back, coming to a stop as the train continued on.  Breath coming fast, Steve held onto Buck’s coat and tried not to let his heart race too much – this was insanity. Not that he could get back on the train since it had already sped past, but he almost wished he hadn’t jumped.

Then again, Buck smelled good for a man who lived the life of a criminal.  Steve closed his eyes and breathed in the man’s scent, feeling himself relax under it.

“What the hell are you doing, Buck?”

Steve opened his eyes to see Sam and two others come up.  He held tighter as Buck turned his horse to grin at them.  “Got myself some gold,” he said, rubbing Steve’s back. “Not my fault you didn’t grab your own.”

Sam scoffed. “Let’s just get going. You don’t think, Buck.”

“I think plenty.”  Buck made sure Steve had his balance before he got off the horse and raised his arms up. “Come on, we need to switch spots and I don’t want to kick you on the way up.”

Steve let himself slide down into the arms. “Ah huh, sure thing. This is just where you decide to kill me and leave the body behind, right?”

“Don’t think like that.” Buck put Steve on the ground and then searched through his saddle bags.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to think like,” Steve admitted. “This is all happening kind of fast.”

“Sorry about that.” Buck pulled out another hat, smaller and slightly worn than his own.  He hit it against his leg a few times before sticking it on Steve’s head.  “That used to be one of the kids’ hats.  Found it on our way out and figured I’d take it back, but it suits you.”

“I’m not a child.”

Buck got on the horse, then reached a hand down to Steve. “Never meant to say you were. Just glad it fits you and isn’t too small.”

Steve held his breath as Buck pulled him back up onto the horse.  He let it out slowly once he settled behind the larger man, arms tight around Buck’s waist.  “You’re saying that to butter me up.”

“I might be. After all, we need to finish what we started on the train.”

Steve flushed but could say nothing as Buck nudged the horse into a gallop. The constant motion was worse than the train, but squeezing his eyes shut seemed to help keep most of the nausea at bay.  

 

\---

 

It hadn’t taken Steve long to realize that Buck was telling the truth – their small group of bands needed any help they could get.  Before his stomach had even settled from the horse, a woman had taken him aside and pushed fresh water into his hands, scolding Buck to taking ‘such a small child.’  She had later apologized, but Steve didn’t blame her. He wasn’t the biggest person in the world.

The children swarmed him next and Steve’s heart went out to them. All of them seemed eager to learn, none of them arguing about who got to do what first. It felt like a family, and Steve was welcomed with open arms.  A little overwhelmed, he looked toward Buck, but the man wasn’t even looking his way.  Instead, he had his head bent low with Sam as the two spoke about something.

Steve spent the rest of the day around the children, learning their names and gauging their intellect. Most of them had the basics down, but Steve had a long way to go to make sure they knew more than just how to plow a field.  He promised to start the next day as long as they made sure they were finished with morning chores first.

The woman who seemed to be the leader of the small village, Carol, led Steve to a small home on the edge once the sun began to set.  “Thank you for coming,” she said. “Having a school teacher here for our children learn is the best gift.”

“It’s nothing,” Steve assured her. “I enjoy teaching.”

“Perhaps you can also teach some of us older folk how to better behave.” She motioned to the slightly run-down place they stopped at. “Starting with him.”

“Buck?”

“That’s the one.” Carol laughed, shaking her head. “I hope you don’t mind, but until we can build your own place, Buck’s offered to share his.”

Steve felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he thought of what else Buck was probably hoping to share. “I don’t mind. Honestly, I can share with anyone. No need to give me anything special.”

“Nonsense.” She held him at arm’s length. “Where else will you hold all your books? A few of the boys already went out to get you some. And before you say anything, it’s for the children, so there's to be no trying to turn them down.”

He smiled softly. “Yes, all right. Thank you again.”

Carol waved him toward the house and watched until he reached up to knock.  Steve was glad to see her go; if she stuck around to see his face turn red as Buck answered the door shirtless, he would have been more than embarrassed. He felt bad that his body immediately reacted to the bare chest in front of him, every muscle and scar on it clearly visible.  Steve glanced up to Buck’s face; part of him was annoyed by the smug look there, but the other part of him wanted nothing more than to reach up and kiss him.

He always preferred to get his way in the end, so Steve put a hand on Buck’s chest and pushed him into the house.  Buck let out a laugh and shut the door, pushing Steve against it.

“Is this how we’re going to be?” he asked, sliding his hands down Steve’s back and then lower so that he could lift him off the floor. “Not that I’m complaining…”

“You want us to be like this?” Steve leaned into Buck, breathing against his neck. “Unless there’s someone—“

“Nobody but you.” Buck pressed his hips into Steve’s. “Just you.”

“One request?”

“Anything.” Buck moved a hand between Steve’s shirt and pants. “Name it.”

“Let me write my friends. Let them know I’m okay.”

Buck pulled his head back and looked over Steve, searching for something.  Steve let himself fall back against the door, tightening his legs around Buck’s waist.  He didn’t think it was that big a request – Anthony had funded this trip after all.

“I don’t see that being a problem unless they’re going to come after you.”

“Visit, maybe, but not to take me.” Steve ran his fingers through Buck’s hair. “They just want me happy. It’s why I was going out here anyway.”

“Mind if I read it before you send it out?” Buck shut his eyes, leaning into Steve’s fingers. “It ain’t that I don’t trust you, but I want to make sure my people aren’t in danger.”

“I get that.”  Steve leaned in, kissing Buck’s jaw. “I get it.”

Buck groaned and rocked into Steve once before taking him to bed.

And so each day went like this - Steve would wake up with the sun as Buck pulled out of their bed.  He would kiss Steve’s shoulder gently and tell him what his plans were for the day - mend the fields, fix one of the houses, get some food. Steve would stretch under the covers of the bed, give Buck a tempting grin, and indulge himself as Buck crawled back into the bed for a moment longer. Once Buck finally pulled himself out of the house, Steve would dress himself in Buck’s clothes as best he could and find Carol.

The children always gathered around Carol in the mornings, listening to whatever stories she told them. Steve would listen to the end of the stories before getting their attention and beginning his lessons wherever they were. Steve felt free - gone was the curriculum and dictum of what some authority had decided he needed to teach. Instead, he just made sure that the kids stayed attentive and were willing to learn.

On the third day, Buck told Steve that he would be riding to the nearest town to get some supplies, also giving Steve a chance to write his letter. Ignoring his nakedness, Steve jumped out of the bed and searched through the mess on the table for spare paper that Buck had brought just for him. Smiling as strong arms wrapped around his waist, Steve wrote to Anthony.  It wasn’t much, just enough to let his friend know that he was more than okay and safe. He penned another letter to his family so they would know he was okay. In both, he let them know he willingly went with Buck to help out the children here and that he would pay Anthony back for the train ticket someday.  Anthony knew about his preferences for men, so Steve added in a postscript, letting his friend know that Buck treated him kindly and there would be no need to worry.

Buck approved of the letters by mouthing at Steve’s neck hard enough to bruise.  Steve was about to tell him to knock it off when he remembered that when Buck needed supplies, they were stolen ones.  And when Buck stole something, for some reason having an erection through it helped. Steve closed his eyes, pressing back against him as Buck’s hand slid down his stomach.

“Promise me one thing?”

“Anything,” Buck said, taking hold of Steve in his hand.

“Don’t hurt anybody.”

Buck hesitated only a moment before he shifted to press Steve against the wall, slowing rutting against his backside. “I swear to you I won’t.”

“Good.” Steve rolled his hips into Buck’s hand, letting the wall and the arm around his waist hold him up through his pleasure.

Later, when Buck pulled him in for another kiss before getting on his horse, Steve let him. He used that kiss to hide his hand as it stroked Buck through his pants.  He would deal with whatever awkwardness came from the others later - this was for Buck.  As he watched the man ride off, Steve became a little afraid at how fast he had fallen, how easily he had given in to this.

One of the children came up and took his hand.  Steve looked down at the smiling child and couldn’t help but smile himself. “Yes?”

“He’ll be back.  You’ll see.”

“I have no doubt on that, Jules. Come on, let’s go talk about—”

“Rattlesnakes!”

Steve laughed at the interruption. “Sure, let’s go talk about rattlesnakes. Now, can you tell me how to spot one?”

The child led him to the other group of children as they all began to talk at once. Steve felt himself relax; nobody here seemed to care about his choices with Buck. In fact, some of the women gave him a little wink before running off to do their own work.

 

—

 

A week had passed since Buck left. Steve woke every morning with the sun, missing the affection that usually came with it.  However, the attention he was lacking with Buck, the children made up for in their enthusiasm to learn. They had dragged Carol to the front of his house to listen to stories, so Steve would walk out of his door to the group of them waiting for him.  By the end of the week, Carol wasn’t with them anymore (little Charlie said that they had already gotten their story and ran over to greet him - Steve attempted not to cry a little at it).  Steve sat on his front steps and continued their lessons, pausing occasionally to look at the horizon, searching for his Buck.

He had never felt more welcomed by a group of people before.  The mothers would share stories with him of their children so he could know more and the men taught him a few tricks of how they made the small town work. Steve would never be as strong as them, but their jesting about his strength never seemed to hurt as much as it did in New York.  One man even attempted to teach him to ride, but being that high up on an animal that could kill him terrified Steve. Instead of the teasing he expected, the man simply nodded and said that he was sure Buck would be glad to have him on his own horse, or with the children in their wagon, should they ever have to move.  The man then patted Steve’s shoulder and offered his own wagon before moving right into a lesson on how to properly feed the horses.

Steve went back to the empty house every night feeling at home, but still empty with the other side of the bed still not containing who he had come here for.  Every night, he would stare at Buck’s pillow before sighing and drifting off to sleep.

About two weeks after Buck had left, Steve woke slowly to the feel of lips across his shoulders.  Half asleep, he assumed he must have been dreaming and just let it happen, a small smile on his face.  Those lips eventually went across his neck and them onto the side of his face.  The bed dipped and a familiar body settled over his own.  Steve squirmed a little as hips pressed into his own - evidence of arousal clearly evident.

“Stevie,” Buck murmured above him, rocking into him. “Stevie, are you awake?”

“Buck?”

“I’m home.” Buck nipped at Steve’s shoulder. “I missed you.”

Steve grinned and pressed back against Buck, making his groan. “Yeah? Show me.”

Buck huffed out a breath and pushed off his clothes to show Steve exactly how much he had missed him.  Though he hated that Buck had been gone for so long, if this was what he would get every time his lover left, Steve was sure he would handle it.

The sun had yet to rise when they tired themselves out. Buck just pulled Steve close against him, not that Steve would complain.  He had missed this - the easy comfort that came from such a position.  He sighed and wiggled himself even closer.

“How was your trip?” he finally asked.

“Sam got himself hurt, but his girl is fixing that.” Buck smiled against Steve’s neck. “You sleep like the dead. You didn’t hear the bells?”

“Must have thought it was a dream.”  Steve had heard something, but New York was a noisy city - he was used to noise.  “Are you upset?”

“I kind of like this better. Coming in and waking you up properly.”

“I’m not complaining.” Steve turned to face him. “Did everything go as planned?”

“Hm. Your letter was sent off with the best carrier, and then we spent some time getting things for us.”

“Meaning?”

Buck rolled his eyes. “Nobody but Sam was hurt, as promised. Got some books for you and more paper. Got some stuff for the kids, and then a few bits of clothes for you.”

“I like wearing your stuff.”

“I know, me too, but you need your own stuff too.” Buck shrugged. “I got what I wanted to see you in.”

“And you stole it all?”

“Can’t help that part, Stevie. We did leave some of the gold we took from the train. Wasn’t anybody there that didn’t need it, I promise.”

“Just humor me,” Steve pleaded.

Buck sighed. “We paid for all of it, of course.”

Steve kissed him just as the sun rose above the horizon.

They stayed happy for months; the more Steve learned about Buck and the family he'd found, the more he knew that he had made the right decision. The children loved him, the rest of the people looked after him, and Buck made sure that he felt safe.  It was more than he could have asked for.

Steve was in the middle of showing the children how to read when there was a commotion among the rest of the people.  Confused, Steve stood just as Buck and a few others came to them.

“What’s going on?” he asked as the others herded the children toward a central house.

“Go with the kids, Stevie. Everything is fine.”

Steve gripped onto Buck’s coat. “Don’t you dare toss me aside like that. What’s going on, Buck.”

Buck glanced over as someone called to him, then frowned back at Steve. “A strange group is coming. Someone saw their horses and since nobody’s supposed to know about us, we can only assume the worst. Please go with the kids. Keep them safe.”

What Steve heard instead was ‘go stay safe’ - he could read the worry in Buck’s eyes. “After this is over, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything, Stevie.”

Steve leaned up to kiss Buck’s cheek. “Teach me to shoot. So I can protect them better.”

'So I can stay safer, for you,' was left unsaid.  Buck smiled, shoulders relaxing a bit. “Of course. Now go.”

Steve squeezed Buck’s hand before turning and running to the smaller house they put the kids into.  Some of the women were there as well, and Steve smiled at all of them.  Carol was already in the middle of telling a story to the children, keeping them calm.  Steve sat by one of the windows, peeking through the curtains to watch the strangers’ approach.

He couldn’t see much since Sam had stopped the band of men a good distance away. He did see when the men got off their horses, hands held in the air.  The man in front seemed familiar, but who he was escaped Steve for the moment. Then he turned and the limp he had in his gait sparked something in Steve’s mind.

Ignoring the cry from the women and children, he ran from the house and toward the strangers.  The man turned just as Steve stumbled a bit up the hill and he laughed a bit.

“Still stumbling along there, Steven?”

Steve shook his head as someone helped pick him up. “As always, Alex. What are you doing here?”

Buck stood a little in front of Steve. “You know him?”

“Alex Pierson. He’s a friend of Anthony’s.”  Steve squeezed Buck’s arm gently before going to give Alex a hug. “It’s been a while. What are you doing here?” he asked again.

“You know Anthony, always worried for his friends.” Alex looked back to Buck. “As I said. I am just here to check in on him.”

Sam frowned at Steve. “And how did you know where to find us?”

“I can track things very well. Trust me, you aren’t that hidden.”

Steve shook his head. “Relax, please. I should have expected something like this.  Anthony worries sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Alex scoffed. “If he weren't feeling under the weather, he would be out here himself. He wanted to make sure you weren’t forced to write that letter.”

“That’s Anthony.” Steve turned to Buck and reached out for his hand. “Buck, it’s okay I promise. I’ve known him for years.”

“I’m like a nice uncle, that’s it.” Alex looked around. “Are your men going to lower their weapons?”

Buck motioned for them to lower and Steve smiled wider. Buck returned the smile and pulled Steve closer. “You can come and water your horses and yourselves, but then we really do need you to go.”

“Buck—”

“Just as a precaution. The town don’t like strangers like this.”

Alex arched an eyebrow. “Doesn’t look like Steve agrees.”

“Steve doesn’t agree.” Steve frowned at Buck. “I—”

“We’ll talk about this later, Steve. Come on.”  Buck turned them and led Steve back into town.

Steve was quiet for the walk back to town, and through the introductions between Alex and a few of the other adults around.  When two of the mothers managed to pull Alex and his men aside for a meal, Steve tugged on Buck’s hand, pulling him toward their house.

“All right,” Buck said once the door closed. “What is it?”

“Alex is a friend. Why can’t he stay longer?”

“Steve…” Buck reached out, sliding his hands across Steve’s face. “Steve, you gotta understand me. I broke a lot of rules just getting you here.”

“They were welcoming toward me.”

“Because it was Sam and I who brought you here.” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Your friend wasn’t supposed to come.”

“I’ll be okay, I promise.”

Buck rubbed Steve’s arm before looking toward where Alex had been pulled off to. “I hope you’re right, Stevie. I really do.”

That night, as the cold crept into their house and the moon disappeared behind clouds, Steve felt Buck’s arms tighten around him and a shiver shudder through his partner’s frame.  He blamed it on the weather, despite it not being any worse than the night before, because there was no reason for Buck to be afraid.

Alex told them, the next morning, that he and his two men would only stay for another night. Steve was glad to have them and spent most of his day asking how everybody was doing back in New York.  He wished Buck would join them, but whenever he went to find him, there was always an excuse.  Steve let him be after the third time he asked.

When Buck hadn’t come home for dinner, though, Steve got worried.  He waited until well past when the food grew cold before pulling on his coat and leaving to go find him. It wasn’t like Buck to stay out this late, though sometimes there were little emergencies that delayed him — Steve just wanted to know what it was.

He got to the schoolhouse when he heard harsh voices whispering behind the building.  He recognized one as Alex - he heard it enough when Alex was arguing with Anthony about some business decision or another - but he didn’t know who the other person was.  Keeping as quiet as possible, he moved around the building to try to get a good look at who was there.

“I don’t care what you think, Pierce. I ain’t goin’ back.”

Steve hesitated, finally recognizing the voice. Buck rarely had that thick of an accent, usually when he was too upset or excited about something to watch how he formed his words, but it was definitely him.

“You might not have a choice. When Stark hears—”

“I didn’t even know they were friends until later.”

“That isn’t the point.” Pierce sighed. “Stark is worried for him, and he has good reason to with you and your lot here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t run from your past, Barnes, no matter how far you go.” A rustle of clothes. “Take this. If you want to get back to how you were, this is your next assignment.”

Alex walked away, his limp easily heard on the gravel.  Steve held his breath as the man walked by, not even noticing him.  That was good, but that still left Buck who—

“Steve?”

— always walked silently. Steve turned to him, unable to keep his facial expression clear.  “Hey, Buck.”

He shoved the piece of paper in his pocket before attempting to give Steve a smile. It didn’t work.  “I thought you were home?”

“You didn’t come back in time for dinner…”

“Stevie—”

Steve stepped away when Buck reached for him. “How do you know him?”

Buck sighed and put his hand down. “I did a lot of stuff I’m not proud of, Stevie.  And I ain’t ever going back.”

Steve glanced to where Alex had disappeared to before he stepped away. “I don’t… I… I need to think.”

Buck’s face fell, but he kept the distance between them, even if Steve could see the need to lean closer.  “All right, Steve. Stay in the house, I’ll… Sam will take me in for the night.”

And with that, Steve just didn’t want to let him go.  He shut his eyes and closed the distance between them, grabbing onto Buck’s coat. “No.”

“No?”

“What kind of person am I if I make you sleep somewhere else every time one of us is upset?”  Steve smiled softly.  “I’m upset you’re keeping things from me, but I’m not going to waste time on it.”

Buck ran a hand down Steve’s back. “You certainly are different.”

“Shut up and come to bed.”

The walk back to the house was silent, but Steve refused to let go of Buck’s hand.  The silence only grew as they got into bed, Buck’s arms wrapped securely around Steve.  Buck leaned in and pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple, whispered a goodnight, and Steve relaxed against him.

Alex stayed for another three days and for those three days, Steve watched him. Alex was careful to be kind to everyone, to talk to the town, to get to know everyone. But every night, Buck would come back to the house tense.  He would kiss Steve, sit down at the dinner table, and apologize for things he wouldn’t tell Steve about.

“I try not to remember it,” he would tell Steve.  “It was the worst few years of my life. This town is my salvation.”

The curiosity itched at Steve, but he held it in.  What business was it of his if Buck didn’t want to share?  Buck wanted to protect him from it, that was obvious, even if Steve didn’t think he needed protection.  Sure, Anthony had protected him, but never like this. Anthony liked to throw money at the situation, hire someone to walk with him - Steve always managed to escape his sitters anyway.

“Good riddance,” Buck said, arms crossed, as Alex’s horses finally rode out.  “You left your letters with him?”

“One of his men,” Steve confirmed. “I don’t much trust him anymore.”

Buck reached out to run a hand across Steve’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine.”

“I know.”  Steve leaned closer to Buck. “Can we get back to work, now?”

“Of course.” Buck grinned and pressed a kiss to Steve’s head just as the happy screams from the children came closer. “Go back to your kids.”

—

Three months passed.  Steve had gotten sick once during that time, but the children pulled together to make sure that he was well cared for. Never before had Steve felt so accepted to be part of a community before. Buck had been worried, but Steve assured him that sickness hadn’t taken him yet, and he wasn’t done fighting yet.  It had been a fast three months that were, besides the illness, the happiest of Steve’s life.

The morning had started off as usual - Steve and Buck enjoying breakfast in their dining room just as the sun started to show itself on the ridge.  Buck held out a piece of fruit to Steve, letting him lick it off his fingers in a way they both knew would make Buck late for morning chores.

Except that never happened. As Steve reached for another piece, a sudden bang on the door startled them.

“Buck!” Sam banged as he yelled. “Buck, get your gun, we got horses runnin’ up!”

“Damn.” Buck ran into the bedroom as Steve answered the door. “Where are they?”

Steve let Sam in the door. “Where is everyone else?”

“We sent out the warning party, too. Steve, you still got your gun?”

Buck came out of the bedroom and handed the spare gun to Steve. “Here, he’s got it. Sam?”

“They’re at the ridge. Killed off our watch, but the shot alerted Wilson. He managed to get back, but they’re close.”

Buck nodded and turned to give Steve a quick kiss. “Stay put, only shoot if you gotta.”

“I will.”  Steve gripped tight on the gun. “You come back, okay? No bullet wounds.”

“Can’t promise that with people like this.”

“Buck, humor—”

“I promise, Stevie.” Buck kissed him again, then disappeared out the front door with Sam.

Steve made sure to blow out the candles and let a few blankets cover the windows, as per the procedures for those threatening the town.  Steve enjoyed breaking rules, though, so he settled himself by the window to watch the dust cloud growing closer.

Something ate at him as he watched, a warning of some kind in the back of his mind.  And when the horses got close enough that Steve could make out some of the men on them, he got worried, and he got angry.

Alex dismounted the front horse and pointed directly at Steve and Buck’s house.  Behind him, getting off a plain chestnut, was Anthony.  They were yelling something, but Steve couldn’t hear it through the rushing in his ears.

Buck was dragged between them, the side of his face bloody.

A few of the other men Alex and Anthony brought with them went to the first house, one that Steve had been to several times to help the Carters with their newborn.  Anthony came closer and Steve cracked the window, finally hearing what his friend was so angry about.

“—did he ever do to you?! Steve was innocent!”

Buck said something then and Alex turned, hitting him with the butt of his gun.  Steve moved them, dropping his own gun to rush outside.

“Anthony, stop! Stop it!”

Anthony turned, gun cocked and raised directly at Steve’s face.  They both froze at the same time, Anthony’s eyes widening before he looked to Alex, then back to Steve.

“Steve?”

“What are you doing?”  Steve pushed forward until he was in front of Buck. “Oh god…”

“Alex told me you were dead.” Anthony turned back to Alex. “You told me he was dead.”

Steve ran a hand through Buck’s hair. “Where’s Sam? Buck, where—”

“He’s dead.” Buck stood up, legs shaky. “These bastards shot him.”

A scream came from the Carter house and Steve reached out to grip Anthony’s arm. “Tell them to stop!”

Anthony nodded and, with a quick glance to Buck, ran into the house.  Steve went back to make sure Buck was okay, his heart racing.

“Is it just your head?” he asked, patting down the coat. “Buck?”

“Why did he think Stevie was dead?” Buck said, ignoring Steve for Alex. “What the hell is your problem?”

Alex smirked. “Your waters are all dead, little Buck. I told you there would be consequences.”

“You absolute bastard.” Buck jerked forward, but stopped as the gun came to his face. “I told you I was out of that life. I have a home here!”

“I doubt it.” Alex pointed the gun to Steve, who was then pushed behind Buck. “You really think I’m going to let you keep your family?”

“Alex—”

“Give me a reason to keep him, Buck. Give me a reason not to shoot through you both!”

“Put it down, Alex!” Anthony yelled, gun up and pointed toward them from the doorway of the house. “What the hell are you doing?”

“He’s killed women and children, Anthony! He’s dangerous!”

Anthony walked closer. “You’re the only danger I see here, Alex. How many more men are you going to kill to keep up a lie?”

Alex glanced to Steve and smirked. “At least one more,” he said, and he shot Steve as he looked at him from around Buck’s arm.

Buck could do nothing but stare as Steve dropped to the ground, a bullet hole through his head.  Gun fire came from all around him as Alex’s men faced off against Anthony’s and the town’s own, but all Buck could focus on what Steve.

Steve.

Buck turned to see Alex’s back was to him and he wasted no time walking up and kicking him to his knees, barely noticing when the shot went through a window.  He leaned over to take the shotgun from him, wrestling it away with ease.  Without another pause, he shot the man in the back of the head.

He turned, looking for his next target.  He found Anthony, the man’s eyes wide.  Buck didn’t care, it didn’t matter anymore that this was Steve’s greatest friend.  Because Steve was dead.

“Just hold on, hold on,” Anthony begged, holding his hands up as some form of peace. “Put the gun—”

“You believed him, you bastard.” Buck stepped closer, shoving the barrel of the gun in the center of Anthony’s chest.  “Don’t you know who he is?”

“I—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Buck leaned closer. “You killed him. You helped kill him.”

“I didn’t know! I got no messages!”

“That’s a lie. I sent them myself.” Buck pressed the gun harder. “Do you know what Alex did?” He waited until Anthony shook his head. “I killed for him, and now I’m going to kill for Steve.” His finger went to the trigger. “I’m going to kill everyone who was involved.”

“I—”

“Starting with you,” Buck said, then pulled the trigger.

 

\---

 

Legend tells of civilization beginning in the west -- of cowboys and gold and prosperity.

It does not tell of murder and of heartache, of survival attempts and failures. Of a little town that enjoyed the kind of acceptance the world would still be fighting for years later.  Of a man who killed dozens on his mad quest for revenge.

Because legend lies.

Another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s my headcanon that Robert Louis Stevenson, author of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, is one of Bruce’s reincarnations because I like to do my best to tie in as many people as I can.


	3. Chapter 3

This was the third woman Steve's neighbor had brought home this week. Steve could tell this was a different woman, too, because none of the others had made such obnoxious, laughable noises.  He snorted as she cried out a ragged “ _ yes _ ”; the first girl this week had sounded phony enough; this one was definitely more so.  She wasn't nearly as good at faking the breathiness.

He would know – he’d had the kind of breathless sex that left him begging for more.  The man who had elicited those sounds from him didn’t exist anymore, but Steve would hold the memory close until the day he died.  Partly because it wasn’t all that smart to be openly gay, but also because the man had married some dame before shipping off and getting killed in the growing war.  Their affair had been fast and dirty, and Steve was sure that the man had only chosen him because nobody else would admit to batting for the other team.

Steve grew up sickly, always on the edge of dying.  His mother did her best with him, but eventually Sarah got sick herself.  Steve fell into the hands of her coworkers then and all but lived at the small hospital she'd worked at.  Frankly, it had done him some good – he got the best medicines and square meals, and that kept him a little healthier.

Not that he'd be able to run a mile without stopping any time soon.  No more so now that he'd, after promising to behave and take his medicine, moved away from the small group he called family in order to take a contracted art position at the local paper.  Three years later, he'd established himself as one of the paper's best cartoonists and mostly, due to his health, worked out of his small apartment.

The only problem was his neighbor.

Steve picked up his sketching supplies just as the girl cried out in what Steve assumed to be a fake orgasm.  He pushed open the sliding door to the porch and breathed in the stale, warm New York air.  At least out here he could listen to the cars and sounds of the people instead of to the mess next door.  The skyline gave him better inspiration anyway.  If he were making something for the paper, he would do it at the kitchen table.  But for himself?  That deserved the proper scenery, and his balcony had what had to be the best view in the city.  It was why he had taken the apartment.

Steve was gotten lost in his sketching when the door to the balcony next to him creaked open.  He didn’t need to look up to know that it was only his neighbor, who had probably already pushed the girl out of his apartment.  This was normal (and no, Steve definitely did not come out onto the porch because he knew this would happen).

The truth was, he had a massive liking for the man next door.  Something about his strong build, slightly scruffy face, and smile that could melt just about anyone's heart – Steve's included.  Steve was just happy that they could talk since he knew that there was be no way anything would ever happen between them.  The man was very obviously straight, and he treated Steve as a younger brother.

It drove him absolutely insane sometimes.

“So, what did you think about this one?”

Steve didn’t bother looking up still.  “I don’t know, Buck, she seemed desperate.”

Oh, and it wasn’t a secret that the walls were that thin.  Granted, Bucky (James Barnes, nicknamed Bucky, and he insisted everybody call him that) didn’t know just how thin until he heard Steve having a bad asthma attack.  He tried to apologize for the sex, but it wasn’t as if Steve would force him to keep a schedule – they weren’t roommates.

“Desperate?  Come on now, Stevie.”  Steve heard the flick of a lighter, and he was glad the wind was blowing the other way.  “Why do you say that?”

Steve finally looked up and then had to adjust himself a bit in his seat.  He couldn’t see the full range of colors, but the sunset behind Bucky highlighted everything about him; Steve wanted to sit here and stare at him forever.  He opened his mouth and said something, he knew he did, but he really had no idea what had come out.  It mostly came out as a jumbled mess of words strung together in an attempt to sound like a question.

Bucky arched an eyebrow at him.  “Come again?”

Steve licked his lips, forced his mind to slow down, and started to tell Bucky that the girl screamed too loud and not all that convincingly.  What came out instead was, “I need to draw you.”

“What?”  Bucky let the cigarette in his fingers dangle a bit too close and the ash sprinkled slightly onto the back of his hand.  “You want to... draw me?”

There was no backing out now.  “Can I?’

“I guess that depends on what you’re planning to draw.”

Everything.  Steve wanted to draw everything about him.  “I don’t know.”

Bucky smiled, taking Steve’s breath away.  Quite literally.

He sucked in a breath sharply and scrambled in his pockets to try and find his inhaler, only to realize he left it inside.  Chest tight, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to move so he could get it before it got too hard to breathe.

Steady hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him back into the seat.  “Stay,” Bucky told him before the hands disappeared and the sliding door opened.

Steve wasn’t sure how long he sat there, unable to breathe, but Bucky didn’t take that long.  His inhaler pressed against his mouth (belatedly, Steve realized that it was with the hand that hadn’t been holding the cigarette) and he took in breaths.

Bucky’s hands rubbed his back until Steve’s body got back to as normal as he could get it.  Embarrassed despite the fact that this had happened a few times, Steve brought his knees up to his chest and tried to curl into a ball.  He didn’t enjoy looking weak in front of the guy he wanted to have sex with.

“You good, Stevie?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile a bit, looking to Bucky.  “Yeah, thanks.  Sorry, I—“

“Don’t apologize for things you can’t help.”  Bucky ruffled Steve’s hair.  “I’m sure my smoking is what did it, so I should be the one apologizing.”

“Wind was going the other way, you’re fine.”  Steve leaned into Bucky’s hand, closing his eyes.  “Thank you.”

“Someone’s gotta look after you, punk.”

Steve let out a laugh and uncurled himself so he could stand.  “Jerk.  Did you clean yourself up?”

“Quick shower and I’m good.”  Bucky stepped aside to let Steve go inside first.  “Don’t worry, I won’t take any of those girls here until I find one I know you’ll like.”

Steve really wished that Bucky wouldn’t bring the girls in the first place, but he smiled softly and went to his kitchen.  “I’m picky, I hope you know that.”

“We just met a few months ago and I’m still finding out new things from you.”  Bucky brought down two cups and put them on the counter.  He then grabbed the sugar and creamer.  “So, you want to draw me?”

“That was… I don’t have to.”  He needed to.  “If you’re uncomfortable with it, we don’t have to do anything.  Sorry, spur of the moment—“

“I think I’d be okay with it, really.”

Steve looked over from the coffee maker to him.  “You… what?”

“It’s nice to see myself through someone else’s eyes.”  He shrugged and put the sugar away.  “How else am I going to see if people think I’m a decent guy or not?”

“So this is about ego?”

“Nah, this is about being able to have someone appreciate me.”  Bucky grinned and leaned against the counter.  “You’re an artist, you see things different, and I like how you view the world.”

Steve laughed.  “You know I’m color blind, right?”

“All the more fascinating.”  Bucky reached for the pot when the coffee stopped.  “Come on, there’s supposed to be a night game that’s on the radio.”

“Yeah, but the Dodgers aren’t set to win this.”

“They’ll win it.”  Bucky took their coffee mugs to the couch while Steve flipped on the radio.  “Don’t you believe in miracles?”

Steve did, he had to, but not these kinds of miracles.  “Sure, Buck.”

They sat in silence after that, nursing their mugs while the game played.  Steve barely paid attention to it, focused more on just how much Bucky got into the game itself.  Sure, the Dodgers lost, but that hardly mattered when Bucky was up and hollering at the radio as if the team could hear him from across town.

Steve just smiled, watching him jump around, and wished he could see this more than just when the game turned on.  He wanted this every day – when he woke up to when he drifted to sleep.

“Can you believe this?” Bucky asked after the final score had been read.  “Bottom of the ninth, last out, and they could have won.  Just a few more feet and it would have been a two run homer to win it.  Damn.”

“Can’t win ‘em all, I guess.”

Bucky huffed and collapsed on the couch, half over Steve.  “Nice to think about, though.”

Steve just ran a hand through his hair.  “I know.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

Bucky turned over in Steve’s lap so he was facing him.  “Mind if I stay here tonight?”

Something tightened in Steve’s chest.  “Sure, Buck.”

This was going to be a bit torturous.  They had met during the first week Steve had moved in, right in the middle of December.  Being the nosy, friendly person he was, Bucky came over to help and all but moved Steve’s things for him.  A week later, Steve had woken him up by coughing in the hallway outside the door.  Bucky had taken it upon himself to stay over, wrapping Steve in as many blankets as he could to keep him warm.  It had also been the first time Steve shared a bed overnight with another man, and even though there was no sex at all, Steve had never felt more intimate with someone else.

He had fallen hard and fast for James Barnes and had actually mourned the passing of winter.  Bucky had no reason to keep Steve warm at night if the air was good and warm.

This was the first time Bucky had asked to stay over without there being any obvious reason for him to stay, and Steve wasn’t about to shut out an opportunity.  “You want the couch or the bed?” Steve asked, taking the cups to the sink.

“Couch is fine.”  Bucky leaned against the counter again.  “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.  I’ll see you in the morning.”  Steve waved to him and went to the bedroom.

Sleep didn’t come easy, knowing that Bucky was in his living room.  He tossed and turned in the sheets, holding back the urge to reach his hand between his legs.  Bucky was in his living room, sure, but  _ Bucky was in his living room _ .

The bedroom door opened and Steve froze as soft footsteps came to a stop next to his bed.  The bed dipped and a hand rested gently on Steve's hip before sliding up to his shoulder.  Bucky let out a breath before removing his hand and standing.

Steve’s hand was on Bucky's wrist before he could stop himself.  “Wait.”

Bucky sat back down, not trying to pull away.  “Stevie…”

This was probably a bad idea, but Steve pulled Bucky down, turning so his back would be pressed against Bucky’s chest.  He maneuvered them until Bucky was wrapped around him.  “Stay.”

A number of things could have happened.  Bucky could have jumped him right then, kissing Steve until they were both breathless and hard.  Bucky could have also jerked away, disgusted, and never bothered to see Steve again.  Bucky could have pulled away, but stayed.  Bucky could have called him a faerie and ran as far as he could.  Bucky could.. he could…

He pulled Steve closer, letting out a soft breath against his neck.  Steve relaxed into the hold and finally drifted off to sleep, safe and comfortable in Bucky’s arms.

Their unsaid situation continued.  Bucky would occasionally bring home a girl (or two) and they would fuck loudly in his apartment.  Steve would wait until they were done before waiting on his balcony.  Bucky would, eventually, join him out there to smoke and pose for Steve’s sketch.  Then, when night fell and it was time to sleep, Bucky would jump the balcony and snuggle himself completely into Steve’s bed.  Neither said a word about it, and neither tried to change it.

Every time Bucky crawled in behind him, Steve felt his heart race.  He was sure Bucky could feel it, but the man never said anything.  He simply pulled Steve a little closer each night before drifting off.

Steve loved it.  And he hated it.  He didn’t want Bucky just wrapped around him, he wanted Bucky inside him in every way possible.  Whenever he looked at Bucky, he felt as if he were drowning and the only thing that could pull him up was the tight grip around his waist.

But Bucky kept with his women and Steve wanted to know what all of this was supposed to mean.  Especially since they had been in this routine for three weeks now.

Three weeks and Steve had at least four sketchbooks full of Bucky.  His face, his hands – Steve filled every page with every piece of skin he’d ever seen on his neighbor.  He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this before he snapped.

One night, Steve didn’t wait for Bucky out on the balcony.  He heard the finally parts of the rough sex through the walls.  The climax, the leaving, and Bucky cleaning up – he couldn’t make himself go onto the balcony.  Letting out a sigh, Steve turned off his lights and settled into bed early, wanting to just go to sleep and try to ignore the fact that he was ridiculously, helplessly, in love with a man who had no idea.

Halfway through the night, his bedroom door eased open.  Steve knew Bucky’s footsteps now and he cursed himself for ever offering the man a key to his place.

Without warning, a hand came down on his chest just as the bed dipped.  Steve opened his eyes to stare at Bucky, not sure of the emotion he saw behind those eyes this time.  He had never seen it, and he really didn’t want to see it again.

“Bucky, what…?”

“Oh thank god.”  Bucky dropped his head to Steve’s chest.  “Thank god, I thought maybe you died and I just…”

“Buck…”

“Shh.”  Bucky shifted so he could lay in the bed, draped beside Steve.  “You weren’t on the porch and then your lights were off.  I just…”

Guilt was always a harder feeling when lodged in his chest.  Steve ran a hand through Bucky’s hair.  “It’s okay.”

“I should have been here the entire time.”  Bucky turned his head, pressing a kiss to Steve’s bare shoulder.

Steve froze, eyes widened as those lips traveled up to his neck.

“I should have never tried to… fuck, Steve.”

The kiss was unexpected, but Steve didn’t hesitate to return it.  He met Bucky evenly, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in close.

They kissed until Steve couldn’t breathe anymore.  He broke the kiss to lean his head back, taking in breaths of air as best he could.  Bucky went back to Steve’s neck, pressing a soft kiss right over his racing pulse.  Steve bit his lip, his hips arching up a bit as a whine escaped his throat.

“You love me,” Bucky accused, hand resting gently on Steve’s stomach.  “You love me and I don’t know how long you have.”

“How would you know?” Steve asked, body tensing just slightly.

“I saw your sketchbook when I came in.”  Bucky looked at him.  “I’ve known my share of artists, and none of them give that much detail to a random subject.  How long have you loved me, Steve?”

This was probably going to end badly and Steve wanted nothing more than to ignore the question and go back to kissing.  But he owed it to Bucky, especially now that he knew.

“About two weeks after I moved in.”  Steve covered his face with his hands.  “Maybe sooner.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Steve laughed, though mostly because it stopped him from crying.  “It isn’t obvious?”

Bucky shifted up so he could pull Steve’s hands from his face.  “Yeah, I guess it is.  I can see why you wouldn’t say something like that here.”  He smiled softly.  “But Stevie…”

“Don’t…”  Steve took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  “Don’t lead me on here, Buck.  If you…”

“I want to.”  Bucky kissed him again, pulling Steve as close as was physically possible.

Bucky moved in three months after, when his lease was up, under the excuse of making both their rent's cheaper.  For a while, the neighbors watched them warily (they all knew Bucky was a bit of a playboy), but Steve and Bucky were careful not to let slip that they were more than just roommates.  Bucky still brought women home, but now they were different.  Some were nurses who checked on Steve to make sure he was healthy.  Some were sports fanatics and would listen to the baseball games as they played on the radio.  It kept the neighbors from thinking they were sleeping together and getting them in trouble.

After the girls left, quietly and with a small drawing from Steve, Bucky would take Steve into the bedroom and do his best to drive him more than a bit crazy with his tongue.  On nights that they hadn’t had a girl in the apartment, Steve would bite on his knuckles to keep quiet.  But on nights when a pretty girl walked away, when Bucky didn’t care about keeping quiet, Steve let himself cry out and make the noises that Bucky pulled easily from him.

They fell into it easily, and Steve was finally happy.  Bucky took his odd jobs around the city to help keep them fed, and Steve took on a larger workload at the paper.  They wanted to save up, buy a home away from people so they could be together without having to sneak around.  The excuse of cheaper rent was not going to last long and they both knew it.  They lay in bed together, Bucky’s arms wrapped tightly around Steve’s waist, as they dreamed together.

Bucky wanted a yard with a dog he could play with.  Steve was allergic to dogs, but Bucky swore that they would find one that worked.  Steve wanted an art studio next to the fireplace so he didn’t have to shiver if their heat went out.  They would have a nice kitchen, too, so Bucky could show off his culinary skills and make them delicious meals.

Steve wanted kids, but he knew that wasn’t an option, so he never mentioned it.

Somehow, he knew Bucky could tell of his want anyway.

Life was good for the first time since his mother died, but Steve always waited for it to change, for something to go wrong and mess everything up.  For a while, he wasn’t sure that time would ever come, but it did.  It did and he wanted to kick something, to throw every piece of art he had out the window, to just fix what had just happened to them.

Bucky was drafted.  He would be going overseas immediately after basic training.

Steve didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was upset, the tears streaming down his face.  Bucky just held him, pressing gentle kisses into his hair as he told him that things would be okay.  That he would write every day and be back home soon enough.

To Steve, he was just living another nightmare.  He remembered the last man he loved, the last man who had left him for the war and a woman.  Did Bucky want that?  He probably did.

Heart shattering, Steve pulled himself away from Bucky, lump in his throat.  “It’s okay.”

“Of course it is.”  Bucky ran a hand through Steve’s hair, a forced smile on his face.  “You’ll see.”

“No, I mean… I know how it is with the war and wanting to come home to a wife…”

Bucky arched an eyebrow, tilting Steve’s head up with his knuckle.  “Why would I want to come home to a wife when I’ve got you?”

Steve stared at him, frowning.  “But…”

“You want to be my wife, Stevie?  You want to put on a dress and cook me food and hold me after I come back?”

Every part of Steve wanted to say yes, but that was a lie.  “I want to fight beside you.”

“Ah, Stevie…”  Bucky pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.  “What I wouldn’t give to never hear you say those words.  You’re too good for a war to take you away.  Stay here, keep the place warm for me.  I’ll be back before you know it.”

“But—“

“No.  No, I can’t lose you out there.”  Bucky peppered kisses across his face.  “Stay here, stay safe, and write me every day.  Okay?”

Steve wanted to argue, to tell him no, but all it would do would be to upset Bucky more.  He left after a few days to go to training and Steve never felt alone.  The bed was cold beside him and he couldn’t sleep.  Bucky’s cigarette sat unsmoked on the balcony and, simply because he was used to it, Steve attempted to light one up.  It was a mistake he would never repeat, and it just made him feel even more pathetic.  He had lived years before Bucky, but now he felt as though he couldn’t live without him.

Despite being asked not to, Steve went to the recruitment offices.  The first one laughed at him, and the second tried to explain that it was too dangerous to send someone as sick as him out into the war.  Steve waited another few days before trying a third place, frustrated when the same thing happened.  At this point, it wasn’t to follow Bucky, but to prove that he could do this.

He wasn’t one to stand aside and let someone walk over him, so this was just a challenge.

Bucky came back as Steve was taking a beating in a back alley for defending a woman in the theatre.  It wasn’t his first fight, but he'd had Bucky to help him the past few years.  Steve had just picked up a trashcan lid, ready to go back at the man who hit him, but he didn’t need to.  Bucky came down and punched the guy in the face before chasing him out of the alley.

Steve wanted to cry.  Bucky looked absolutely stunning in his uniform.  “Buck…”

“How many times do I have to pull you out of these things?”  Bucky turned Steve’s face so he could see the cut.  “Keep doing this when I’m gone and I won’t have nothin’ to come back to.”

“So you’re really going?”

“The 107th.”  Bucky ran a hand through Steve’s hair.  “Come on, let’s go home.”

That night, alone in their bed, Bucky made love to Steve slowly.  It was perfect, it was amazing, and Steve felt as though it was a goodbye.  He held tightly to Bucky, arms and legs wrapped around him as Bucky slowly thrust inside.  Steve felt worshipped as Bucky’s hands traveled everywhere on him.

They lay close to another after, Bucky trailing kisses over Steve’s body wherever he could comfortably reach.  The night was quiet, slight cold breeze drifting through the crack in the window.  Steve didn’t want to move, didn’t want to leave the comfort of the arms.

“Bucky…”

“Shh.”  Bucky ran a hand up Steve’s stomach.  “Don’t ruin the moment, punk.”

“You ruin it yourself sometimes.”

Bucky laughed.  “Stay here for a minute.”  He pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips and got off the bed to reach his uniform.

Steve sat up on his elbows, watching him.  “What is it?”

“Just let me… ah, here.”  Bucky grabbed something and came back to the bed, crawling over Steve to kiss him again.  Steve figured Bucky never wanted to stop, and that was okay with him.

Bucky pressed a box into Steve’s hand, breaking the kiss.  Steve frowned a bit at him, turning it over in his fingers.  “What’s this?”

“Open it.”  Bucky leaned back, giving him a small smile.

Steve did, and then he stopped breathing for a moment.  A golden ring stared back at him, simple band with a strip of silver around the center.  His hands shook until Bucky reached forward to hold them steady.

“The guys at training were talking about the girls they married and would come back to see.  They got to me and I told them I hadn’t had the money to get my girl something proper to propose with, so I didn’t.”  He took the ring out and took hold of Steve’s hand.  “Guy that calls himself Jim gave this to me, said to come home and make you mine.  His girl, apparently, didn’t believe in marrying a dead man.  That's what she told him, anyway.  Jim's a pretty ugly guy.”

Steve shivered as the ring slipped on, a perfect fit for his smaller fingers.  “Bucky, I—“

“Even if you say no, tell me that this is dumb, I want you to keep this.  You can give it back to me once I get back from the war.”

Steve leaned forward, pulling Bucky into a rough kiss.  “You jerk,” he breathed out, dropping the box off the side of the bed.  “You big, stupid jerk.  Yes, okay?  I don’t care if nobody else sees.  God did, and that’s enough for me.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve, pulling him down on the bed.  “You’ll be my guy?  In sickness and in health and all that?”

“Yes.”  Steve laughed, straddling Bucky easily.  “Yes, god yes.”

They made love until morning, when Bucky had to pull on his uniform again.  Steve still lay in bed, sheets wrapped around his waist as he watched.  He wanted to do nothing but rip the uniform off and pull Bucky back to bed, but he knew better.  Being late wasn’t going to help him survive – it would just make the generals harder on him.

“I put in a call to Nancy before I came home.  She’ll come and make sure you’re doing good during the winter months.  She said that you wouldn’t ask for help, so I just gave her the key.”  Bucky sat on the edge of the bed.  “She said to call her because you haven’t since you left.  She’s worried about you.”

“She’s always worried about me.  I write to her.”

“Call her.”  He leaned in for a soft kiss.  “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back, okay?”

“How can I?”  Steve ran a hand through Bucky’s hair, messing it up.  “You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

Bucky grinned and kissed him again, then took Steve’s hand to kiss the ring that still settled on his finger.  “I love you, punk.”

Steve felt his heart swell at the words – neither of them had said it before and Steve mourned the lost times he could have told him.  “I love you too, jerk.”

Steve kissed Bucky goodbye at the door, not caring if anybody saw them.  Eventually Bucky pulled away and walked backwards to the stairs, letting Steve see his smile the entire way.  Steve’s heart ached, though, and he felt an attack on the verge of coming.  He waited until Bucky fully disappeared before shutting the door and grabbing for his inhaler.

Steve spent two days in the apartment, locked behind his door and trying to tell himself that Bucky would be fine.  He would come home and they would find that house they wanted together and maybe get three dogs instead of just one.  He just had to keep telling himself that or else he would go crazy.

Perhaps he had already gone crazy, though, because he was sitting in the medical ward of an army recruitment station and the doctor had just left to go get someone.  Sure, he had lied on his papers to say he was from somewhere else, but they couldn’t have caught that, right?  Right?

A smaller man stepped inside and pulled off his hat, introducing himself as Dr. Erskine.  Steve shook his hand, concerned, and suddenly felt more naked than he already was.

But he didn’t need to be.  He was invited to a new program the army was cooking up – finally, he had the chance to catch up to Bucky and make sure he was safe.  To protect him just as much as Bucky had protected Steve.

Bucky would probably yell at him, actually.

But Steve didn’t care.  He went through the training, Bucky’s ring dangling next to his dog tags on his chest.  He fought through his asthma and the other recruits teasing him for it.  He listened, he learned, and he did his best not to fall behind.  Mostly, Steve almost regretted his decision to come here because he wasn’t sure if he could beat all the other guys trying out.  They were stronger, they were faster, and they were generally bigger.

Not for long.

The day before he was to have the procedure done, after the good doctor had left him alone in the bunk, Peggy Carter came in.  She sat across from him on another bed and offered a smile, and it was the most comforting thing Steve had been given since he arrived.  Sure, she had been a nice gal the entire time and she seemed interested (how?), but Steve’s heart was already taken.

Her eyes fell on the ring and she smiled softly.  “You’re leaving someone behind, then?”

Peggy was a woman in the military, so maybe… “Following them, actually.”

She tilted her head a bit and then nodded.  “Must be a special person that you would go through this to be with them.”

Steve didn’t miss the fact that she left out genders and, taking a chance, he let himself relax.  “Yeah, he really is.”

Her smile grew soft and she reached out, taking a hand in hers.  “Are you sure you want to go through with this, Steve?  He may not like the end result.”

Steve stared at their hands, frowning.  She had a point – there was no guarantee that Bucky would actually approve (oh hell, of course he wouldn’t approve) of Steve going through this, but he knew that there was no way Bucky would ever reject him as a whole.

Right?

“That’s a chance I’m going to have to take, ma’am.  This isn’t just about him, this is about my country now.  I’d like the chance to serve it.”

She patted his hand gently.  “You already have.  Get some rest, we’ll be going to New York in the morning.”

Sleep didn’t come easy that night, but it hadn’t since Bucky left anyway.  Too soon after he closed his eyes did the alarm go off in his room.  He dressed quietly and tried not to remember the morning Bucky had left, pulling on the same pants and the same shirt and the same tie.  Steve fingers fumbled over the knot, cursing to himself as he couldn’t seem to get it.

Someone knocked and gently eased the door open.  “Are you dressed, soldier?”

Steve smiled, turning to Peggy.  “Almost, ma’am.”

She stepped closer, knocking his hands away to do the tie herself.  “Did he do this for you?”

“Never had to wear a tie.”  Steve stepped back once she was done, smoothing down his shirt.  “You’re okay with… me?”

Peggy shrugged and held out Steve’s jacket.  “I don’t see why two people can’t be happy together.  I have no problem with how you choose to love, Steve.”

Steve would kiss her if he were a single man.  Instead, he just hesitantly pulled her into a small hug.  She returned it, a hand sliding through his hair.

“Come on, soldier.  Let’s go meet the new you.”

In the end, Steve probably could have done without the pain or the small asthma attack that happened in the middle of the procedure.  He may have blacked out, but he couldn’t really tell.  One minute he was screaming, the next cool air hit his chest and his breathing suddenly came so much easier than it had in… ever.  Once the platform grew stable, he opened his eyes to, quite literally, a new world.

He wished his had his pencils, or the oils that Bucky had gifted him before he realized Steve couldn’t see colors.  Everything was bright and fresh and very, very red.  He had barely been reborn in the world and already he had to see the bright red smear of blood on a man’s chest.

After the incident, and the mysterious reveal of “Hail Hydra,” Steve was reduced to nothing more than a stage show monkey.  They put him in a suit, promoted him to a Captain so he could wear the name, and then he spent time reading from a script to sell war bonds.  Bullets to put in guns so that the people fighting on their side hopefully wouldn’t die.

During the nights, Steve would stay awake and stare at the stars outside his window, wishing that Bucky were here with him.  He could barely remember how his arms felt around his body, and he was sure that they would definitely feel different now that his body had changed.

Steve counted one night – he could orgasm nearly ten times before he got bored of his own hand on his dick.  He was sure Bucky was going to have a field day testing his strength and stamina.

If Bucky still wanted him.

The news of a tour overseas to speak to the troops excited Steve.  He immediately wrote to Bucky, and then he wrote to Peggy to see if maybe she knew where he was stationed (he hadn’t received letters in a week – he wasn’t too worried just yet).  As soon as he gave them to the carrier, they were off, on a plane.

Steve had gone through four sketchbooks and an entire package of colors by the time he had walked onto the stage overseas, but it felt as if he were small again.  The weather turned terrible, and the colors dull.  The men were silent unless the girls were out and Steve?  Steve felt useless.  He should be helping them, not entertaining them.

Peggy found him outside his tent, sketching a type of self-portrait.  “Captain.”

He gave her a small nod.  “Ma’am.”

She sat down next to him, her shoulder leaning gently against his.  “Don’t take their anger personally.  Most of them are upset about what is happening.”

“I’d be upset too.”  Steve closed the sketchbook and looked around.  “A man in tights parading around?  While they’re risking their lives?”

“Steve—“

“I should be helping, Peggy.”

She rested a hand on his knee, squeezing softly.  “It’s all right.  Some of those men just came back from a bad run.”

“Don’t they all?”

“True, but the few that came back from the 107th escaped being—“

“The 107th?”  Steve turned sharply to her.  “What?”

“Steve?”

But Steve was already up, marching his way to Phillips tent.  The man glanced up at him, but didn’t do much more than that, not until Steve reached forward to take his pencil.

“Captain—“

Steve didn’t let him finish.  He quickly rattled off Bucky’s full name and draft number before demanding information.  When the Colonel gave him a blank stare, Steve narrowed his eyes and repeated himself, making himself stand as tall as he could.

The news wasn’t good, but the news was never good.  The 107th was behind enemy lines and they didn’t know how many were dead or how many were still alive.  Bucky was behind the lines and Steve wasn’t going to stand for it.  If they weren’t going to do a rescue mission, then Steve would sure as hell do it.

Peggy followed him.  “Captain.”  When he ignored her, she stepped closer and grabbed his arm.  “Steve.  Please.”

“Not right now, Peggy.”

“Steve, you don’t even know if he’s alive.”

That wasn’t what Steve wanted to hear.  “I can’t just… Peggy, I need him.”

She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed once before pushing him back.  “Come on, I know someone crazy enough to take us where you need to go.”

The second time Steve met Howard Stark, the man took one look at him and made him swear not to die.  Steve promised he would try not to, but they both knew that was an empty promise.  Steve could promise nothing at this point.

He stared at the ring Bucky gave him before pressing a kiss to it and holding it tightly.  He would rescue Bucky, he would save him.  Even if it meant never being with him again because he wasn’t a skinny twerp anymore.

The jump wasn’t so bad and he was lucky that the shots fired didn’t hit him or his parachute. It was the trek into the facility that was the worst.  Sneaking had never been one of Steve’s better abilities and he was sure he got through with mostly luck.  He found the men quickly enough, but not who he came for.  Not Bucky.

One of the men shakily pointed him down a hall and told him how many steps to take.  He had, apparently, been taken there several times and while he couldn’t promise Bucky was there, Steve had to take the chance.  Leaving the soldiers to fight their own way out, Steve raced down the hall.

Bucky, when he did find him, looked terrible.  Steve’s heart seized in his chest as he heard Bucky muttered out his name and number over and over again.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Bucky was supposed to come home damn it all.

“Buck?  Hey, Bucky it’s me.”  Steve shook his shoulder gently.  “Come on.”

Bucky turned to him and the smile that came to his face was the best thing Steve had seen in a while.  “Stevie?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”  He didn’t care.  Steve leaned over and kissed him desperately.  “I’m here, come on, we need to go.”

“Yeah?”

Steve pulled off the straps and helped Bucky to stand, abet shakily.  “God, I thought you might have died.  You shouldn’t do something like that to me.”

Bucky looked him over, hands gripping Steve as tight as they could.  “I thought… I thought you were shorter.  What happened?”

“I joined the army.”  Steve smiled, hoping a joke would help Bucky feel a bit better.  Help him feel a bit better about the way Bucky was looking at him.

Before they left the room, Steve saw a map where all the bases seemed to be marked.  Convenient, but it made him think that maybe Hydra wasn’t all that smart.

They staggered out into the hall, Bucky’s hand trailing over him a bit.  “Is it… is it permanent?”

“So far.”  Steve turned them down a hallway, trying to remember the way out.

“Did it hurt?”

“A bit, but I’m fine.”  Steve found a stairway and pushed Bucky up it.  “Come on, we gotta get out of here.”

Up the stairs turned out to not really be the right way to go, but Steve finally found the exit.  He let Bucky go first across the beam, relaxing once his best guy got to the other side.  Steve went to follow, but that’s when an explosion rocked the place and took out his only way across.

Bucky looked at him, desperation in his eyes.  “Steve!”

He could find another way out, he could… “Just go!  The place is coming down!”

“No!”  The yell came out strangled, full of a hurt Steve had never heard before.  “Not without you!”

Steve licked his lips and looked around before carefully looking over the drop between them.  He could jump it – it shouldn’t be a problem with his new body.  He shared a quick look with Bucky before setting himself up and running the short distant he was allowed.

His body hit hard against the rails and if it weren’t for Bucky standing there waiting, the impact would have shocked him enough to let him fall. Instead, Bucky grabbed onto his arm, holding tight.  Steve let out a breath and climbed over, stumbling into a hug that Bucky seemed as if he wouldn’t let go of.

But they had to.  Steve gave him another quick kiss before pushing him toward the exit of the building and outside.  Steve knew he was getting tired, but he went out in front, shield up to protect them from any Hydra idiots that decided to still try and save the base.

They didn’t need to worry – the rescued soldiers were there, both Hydra weapons and whatever else they found in hand.  Some even sat atop of tank.  Relieved, Steve pulled out the communicator Peggy had given him only to laugh at how completely destroyed it was.

“I guess we’re walking, then.”

“The hell you are, you’re exhausted.”  Bucky gripped Steve’s arm as he wavered a bit.  “Come on, we’ll get some rest on the tank.  Where’s camp?”

Steve looked to Bucky, recognizing the determined look on his face, and then told him where to go.  It would be about a two-day walk, but someone seemed to have found rations that they stored in a jeep.  They would make it.  They had to.

Steve wanted nothing more than to touch Bucky, make sure that he was still completely alive.  He could see the same itch to the do the same in Bucky’s fingers (Steve didn’t want to look him in the eye, terrified that he wouldn’t love the new version of him, but he was always sure that Buck would want to at least make sure he was okay).  But he couldn’t, not until they were alone and who the hell knew when that would be.

Steve led the men back into camp, his head held high and Bucky at his side.  He gave out confidence he didn’t feel, even as the cheers started.  He looked through the crowd until he saw the person he was looking for – Peggy.  She ran to him, eyes glancing to the men around him before shaking her head.

“We never got a call.”

Steve held up the broken communicator.  “There were some difficulties.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to tell Howard so he fixes it next time.”

A familiar hand settled on his shoulder and Steve relaxed instantly.  Peggy smiled fondly at Bucky as he called out something, but Steve barely heard him over the sudden cheers.  The hand stayed on his shoulder – stayed.  Steve could have collapsed from there and been happy because Bucky’s hand squeezed him softly and it didn’t move despite the amount of people trying to come closer to touch him.  Steve wanted him alone, he wanted to get everything he felt out and in the open and he needed to be anywhere but here.

“Come on, I’ll check you two out.”  Peggy took his arm and pulled Steve (and Bucky) away from the crowd.  “You both look like you could use a different kind of attention.”

“Peggy, what—“

“Captain, you will follow my orders this time.”  Peggy brought them into her own tent and then sat Steve down, Bucky beside him.  “Injuries?”

“Minor.  Peggy, I’m—“

“Is this him?” she asked, motioning to Bucky.  Something in Steve’s face must have given him away before she nodded.  “I’ll be back later.  No one dares enter my tent except the few women here, but I’ll make sure they’re busy with the men.”

She didn’t even wait for an answer – she just left the two of them alone together in the tent.

Steve took a deep breath before turning to Bucky.  “Before you—“

“I didn’t think you could get more beautiful.”

He hesitated, mouth open in shock at Bucky’s statement.  He didn’t need to say anything else before Bucky moved forward, kissing Steve desperately.

It was different now that he was, well, bigger.  Bucky all but crawled in his lap, hands tight around Steve’s head as he pressed into the kiss.  His hands went to Bucky’s hips and pulled him close enough to grind their hips together.  Bucky let out a soft moan in Steve’s mouth as a hand moved down his chest.

“Stevie,” Bucky breathed out, pulling at Steve’s breath.  “Is this really you?”

“Yeah.  Yeah, it’s me, Buck.”  Steve shifted so his pants could get down enough that Bucky could pull his cock out.  “Explain later, this now.”

Bucky laughed softly and moved so he could take both of them in one hand.  Usually they took their time with this, but Steve knew what Bucky wanted – he wanted it too.  He wanted to release the tension, feel closer – he just wanted Bucky and he didn’t care how.

They did try their best not to get any mess over the bed they had been perched on; it wasn’t all that nice to mess up a lady’s bed.  But they did pull their pants back on and settle onto the mattress together.  Bucky ran his hand through Steve’s hair before looking him over, a soft smile on his face.

“God, Stevie, you…”

“I’m sorry, Buck, but I just—“

“It’s okay.  I think.”  He frowned, sliding a hand up Steve’s chest and pulling his dog tags out.  The frowned disappeared as he saw the ring.  “You sap.”

“I came here for you.”

“And because you have a good heart.  How does this new body work?”  Bucky pressed a kiss to the ring before dropping it.

Steve kissed him softly before telling him what he knew, not wanting to hold anything back from his partner.  Granted, he didn’t know that much – Peggy knew more about it still than he did, but he knew enough.  Faster healing, faster metabolism, his numerous medical problems were fixed – so far, he hadn’t seen a downside.

Bucky, it looked like, didn’t see one either.  His hands hadn’t left Steve’s skin since they got alone; Steve couldn’t wait to fully test his sexual stamina and, from the gleam in Bucky’s eyes when Steve told him of his practices, neither could he.

Experimenting together would have to wait.  There was still a war to fight and Steve now knew the locations of the other Hydra bases.  He wanted to take them out, to bring down the place that took Bucky and experimented on him.  Neither one of them knew what might have happened, and Bucky said he didn’t feel any different, so they would just need to wait.

They hid their relationship from the team through the first mission, but then Jim rolled his eyes and told them that they weren’t going to judge the man that had taken them, single-handedly, out of a Hydra base.  Steve had mumbled out something like an apology, but didn’t get it all out before Bucky had pulled him into a kiss – much more filthy than it needed to be.  Steve had been embarrassed, but the guys laughed and patted his back and told him that he could have at least got himself a prettier man. Jim also congratulated Bucky on being able to find a suitable finger for the ring.

Missions were easy after that, all of them working together to take down something they couldn’t even see the head of.  After each base was brought down, the boys would find the nearest inn that the allied armies had and spend the night making as much noise as possible in the bar.  Granted, the noise was to hide the fact that two of their party were upstairs alone.

Steve and Bucky enjoyed the times after a mission the most.  Nobody wanted to sleep until morning, and it gave them enough time to explore themselves.  The first time was just as rushed as the time in Peggy’s tent – hands and mouths everywhere and Steve had lost count on the number of times Bucky’s hand, lips, or ass brought him to an orgasm.  Bucky had made it his personal mission to figure out exactly how many times Steve could come undone before he passed out.  Usually, he lost count after the tenth one and just promised to try it again another night.

Despite the war going on, they were happy.

Not that happiness has ever lasted for Steve.

Peggy found him alone in a destroyed bar, a bottle of whiskey in front of him.  Steve hadn't left it since Bucky had fallen off the side of Zola’s train two days before..  After handing the man over, Steve had removed the iconic Captain America outfit and disappeared – no one in the Howling Commandos team would tell anybody where he had gone until Peggy informed them that she knew of the relationship between the two soldiers.

Steve said nothing as she approached, but Peggy hadn’t expected him to.  She did take his glass and drain it herself, wincing at the burn down her throat.  “For any other man,” she said, pouring another glass, “this could definitely give quite the buzz.”

“I’ve had more than half the bottle.”

“Yes, I see.”  She eyed the newly poured glass before pushing it toward him.  “If it makes you feel better…”  When Steve didn’t take the glass, Peggy sighed and reached out for his hand.  “Your metabolism breaks it down faster than ours, so no… you are unable to get drunk.  I’m sorry.”

Steve had let himself cry at that, leaning himself against her as sobs wracked through his body.  He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but it was long enough for Steve to realize what he needed to do.  There was still one last Hydra base to destroy, one more to take out and he could let himself mourn what had been the best thing in his life.

Peggy talked to him as the plane he flew got closer and closer to New York.  There were plenty of places to land the Hydra plane safely, but the job was done.  Red Skull was gone, the main fraction of the enemy was gone – what else did he really need to do that the Howling Commandos couldn’t?  So he took a deep breath and lied – told Peggy that he had to put the plane in the water.

Maybe the impact and the water would kill him, bring him to wherever Bucky was.

With Peggy and Howard’s help, Steve Rogers’ legend went down as the greatest hero during the war.  A fabricated story blossomed to save his memory so that he could be remembered as the strong man he was – they both knew that the world wouldn’t accept it if the truth came out about his relationship.  Peggy didn’t mind offering herself up and she smiled for the cameras when they asked her about her romance and the death of Captain America.  Howard sent out searches to try and find both men, but every year it came up short.

The Russians had already found Bucky and shaped him to what they wanted.  A weapon, an asset, to take out any threats against the future of Hydra.

Eventually, seventy years after his suicide attempt, Steve’s plane was finally found.

A few years after that, Steve Rogers, fugitive of SHIELD, pulled the mask off the Winter Soldier in the middle of Washington D.C.

\---

Legend tells of a mysterious Captain leading his men through the toughest of battles to rid the world of the worst evil.  It tells of brave men, braver sacrifices, and the harshness of loss.

It does not tell how no matter the universe, and no matter the circumstances, Steve will always find his Bucky.  It does not tell of the bond between the souls that rest in their bodies. It doesn't tell of what they would do in order to stay with another.

Because legend lies.

End.


End file.
